


BruJay Ficlets

by Vodka112



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Angst, Crossover, Eggpreg, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gift Fic, Jason Todd is Catlad, M/M, Mpreg, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2018-10-08 02:30:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 20,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10375839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vodka112/pseuds/Vodka112
Summary: Random Snippets of Fics I Can't Really Finish Right Now.Alternatively: I miss writing Brujay and seeing Brujay art. Also, feel free to comment on whichever AU you're interested in. Helps me prioritize.Changed the title from drabbles to ficlets.





	1. For Ahongkc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written based on this [drawing](https://vodka112.tumblr.com/post/155667468008/ahongkc-%E7%9C%9F%E8%BF%99%E6%A0%B7%E5%B0%B1%E5%A5%BD%E4%BA%86-for-ahongkc-robin-had-been). Thanks Ahongkc!

Robin had been unresponsive since Batman got him back from the Asylum. He had given up on finding Robin, having watched the video Joker sent. He let the anger and guilt build up in him for weeks, as well as the desperation to find… Jason’s body. To bury him and finally lay him to rest. 

Batman had looked everywhere except inside the Asylum, sure that when he saw the clown, he would commit murder. When he did get in, it was to see the boy strapped on a chair hooked to electrical outlets. His breathing had been slow. Bruce had to haul him out of there, lift him on his shoulders, and he weighted like nothing. 

Almost three weeks of searching for his boy and he thought he had been too late. But Jason had recognized him, breathed his name with parched lips till Batman strapped him into the seat. After that, he stopped making sounds. Bruce had given him water and light food, those available for emergencies in the hidden compartments of the car. 

Jason had to be fed by hand. The light flashed on his face, making his scar stand out. It hurt to see the price of Batman’s mistakes. Bruce didn’t look away. Batman had driven them home to the caves but aside from the occasional muffled whines, Robin was silent. It rankled deep in him, the wrongness of the situation. The silence. 

Nevertheless, Jason was home. And Alive. It was more than what Batman thought he would get, what Bruce thought he would have to be satisfied with. It was better than an empty coffin. The boy would need a bath and his most immediate injuries to be looked over. So Bruce will work at those, one at a time. Make sure Jason knows he was trying to help. 

“It’s okay,” Bruce said, a towel in his hand to wipe Jason’s blank face. The boy had been staring glassy-eyes at the ceiling the whole time. “You’re safe now. You’re home.”

 


	2. For eskimosheep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this [drawing](https://vodka112.tumblr.com/post/155668095108/eskimosheep-hey-b-its-christmas-lighten). Thank you eskimosheep!

“Hey, B, its Christmas. Lighten up,” Jason says. His hat makes a merry jiggle when he turns his head and he laughs. Bruce had been staring at him for the past hour, like he’s just waiting for Jason to cross the proverbial line before hauling his ass out of the house. Jason’s grin dies and he turns around to get away.

“Hey, Jay, where you going?” Dick yells out from where he’s tangled up in a game of drunk Twister. Jason flips him one before stepping out the patio.

Its cold as Alaska out there, with snow falling powdery soft. The fact that it wasn’t an artificial snow courtesy by Dr. Freeze is a bonus. Jason pats his pockets for a pack and a lighter. He’s busy trying to turn the lighter on when the door clicks open behind him.

“Jason,” Bruce says and Jay stops his fruitless efforts with the lighter.

“Just so you know, this wasn’t my idea,” Jay says, “I was invited by your… other birds. I came so they would shut up.”

“I thought you wouldn’t show,” he says, and Jason crushes the stick in his fist.

“Thought and want are two different things, old man,” Jay says, voice low and threatening, not that he thinks Bruce ever feels threatened by anyone. Still, Jason moves closer to Bruce, their chests almost touching.

Bruce keeps on looking at Jay like… now that Jason thinks about it, as if he’s not entirely sure Jason’s real. There’s mistletoe above him and Jay doesnt intend to miss a perfect set up like this.

Jay pulls him by his jacket and kisses him.

It was awkward, the way his mouth was sorta open to suck satisfying kisses from. But then Bruce starts to reciprocate, opening his mouth as well to savor the flavor of them, Jason thinks this Christmas isn’t half so bad.


	3. Midnight Sandbox! 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: wings and egglaying, Mpreg

Jason let out another sigh as his wings twitched behind him. He’s sitting crosslegged in an honest-to-god  _nest_. It was the only word for it. He’d taken the mattress down to the floor and threw about three hampers worth of dirty clothing around it. Around _him_ , really, since he’d been tidying up the shirts, boxers and pairs of socks like a hideous pillow forth and he _liked_ it. He’d pushed his hand everywhere and found them all at the right softness. He’d even matched this pair of purple boxers with this really cute looking yellow scarf on the side where he expected the sun to shine.

He did all of this in the space of an hour. 

He clicked his tongue as he rubbed low on his abdomen. There was the slightest little lump, unnoticeable even to him when he looked in the mirror. It wasn’t as hard as bone, not yet, but it was definitely solid and kept rolling around when Jason poked it with his finger.

He thought it was constipation, till he had Batgirl sitting him down in one of the free clinics by the east bay. Then, Bam! He’s gonna be baby-daddy. Egg-laying egg-daddy since he has a cloaca. _Fuck him_.

He’d had one of his heats closer to home this time, some three months ago, but he hadn’t been on birth control while he had cloacal sex. There had been a morning-after pill but he definitely took it a bit too late.

He pushed at the lump again. It felt more solid now and soon, it would have to come out. There was just the one according to his scans but he didn’t really believe that. His heat lasted a good 24 hours and its more common to lay multiples with only few viable eggs anyway. For all he knows, there can be three or more in there.

Then there was the issue about egg-daddy number two. It takes two to tango after all, or more if you’re ambitious. Jason wasn’t during his last heat and there was only one person the other father could to be.

Jason scowled before deciding to lay down in the nest, curling his body to fit inside and drawing his wings around him like a blanket. It was… mildly satisfying and a lot disturbing. Satisfying, because he could have blessed peace in this house for once, and disturbing, mainly due to this niggling sensation at the back of his head saying,  _You missed a spot. That part is too lumpy. That one is too low. Dick’s stink is too close to your nose, you should’ve put it behind Damian’s. On second thought, Tim’s shirt would look great with this red spandex instead–_

Jason sat up quickly and shook his head to clear his thoughts. Fuck nesting.

Also, fuck the voice in the back of his head going,  _This would go a lot smoother if you’d just ask_ him _to make you a nest._

Something the non-carrying mate did for a nesting pair. Jason’s scowl dipped lower. He’d have to report his status soon or Big Bad would notice and come swooping down on him with… 

He had no idea what Bruce would think. Not telling him in the first place was already a douche move. Talia had done that and Bruce had not really gotten over having a biological son underfoot in the manor or the penthouse. Jason still noticed him looking a bit too closely at Damian sometimes, like he couldn’t believe this kid looked like him, talked like him, and even breathed like him at some point. And Damian was fifteen already.

No. Scratch not telling Bruce. Which would mean telling him about the whole… situation. Egg-laying business. That has a high probability of inducing the lecture-to-end-all-lectures about _wearing the coat_ or _covering the banana_ , and Jason has to stop there or he’d crack up and he’d be back to square one with planning. 

First step: Tell Bruce about Egg-Baby. Then hope against all hope he doesn’t throw Jason off the tower. 

Bruce had done that last week, granted to push Jason out of a line of fire and unto the meter drop of the next roof building. But Jason was holding a grudge. He was keeping his eyes peeled for the next opportunity he could get to push Bruce off a building.

But what if Bruce didn’t push Jason off a building? What if he wanted to help with the nest? What if he wanted to hover during the emergence?

Jason rubbed his abdomen some more. He was running out of time. He needed to tell Bruce soon. Tonight, or sometime after patrol tomorrow. In the meantime, he should get these clothes back to their proper owners. 

His wings twitched in agitation. He reached behind him to straighten a twisted feather. 

He’ll just leave it be. Alfred wont be back till next month. The old grampa took his paid vacation, for once, to visit his daughter somewhere so far up north it should be in Canada. Everyone else was busy with patrols and monitor duties. It’s still a few hours till sun-up.

He was back to being curled up in the nest again, with his wings covering him from the lamp-light. He’ll nap first, then talk to Bruce later.


	4. Midnight Sandbox! 2 (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mpreg, ABO and based off of a Eggsy/Harry fic. Supposed to be Heat-Porn, but I got too tired to finish.

Bruce had an inkling thought about this from before Jason died. The boy had come out of his maturity cycle a little early, smelling of cinnamon and honey-crisp apples. It had surprised Bruce a little, his young ward smelling ripe of the scents he liked best from his bed partners. He put that out of his mind, and then Jason died.

Then Jason came back _alive_.

Jason groaned from where Bruce had him pinned against the training mats with his hand behind his back. He had taken a lungful of that honey-crisp scent coupled with cinnamon and molasses. He clenched his jaw at the sheer _sweetness_  tainting the air around him. He let go.

Jason snarled, turned around and lunged at him as if trying to wrestle the Alpha knot from Bruce’s hands. Bruce growled back and pinned him again, pressed his whole body down on Jason and held his wrists above his head, keeping his arms up and out of the way. 

Bruce leaned down to nuzzle and kiss Jason’s neck, while the boy let out a low breathy laugh.

“You gonna do it now, Bruce? Bite me,” Jason demanded. 

Bruce shook his head and huffed, “We’re taking this upstairs.” 

He tried to stand up but Jason had wrapped all his limbs around him with no intention of letting him go. He let the boy suck bruising kisses on his neck while he made their way back to his bedroom.

The almost-first-time it happened was outside an abandoned warehouse somewhere on the east bay. The perpetrators had been wrapped and bowed as presents for the GCPD. However, the inside of the warehouse had to be set on fire. There were too many _valuables of interest_ to risk getting it in the governments’ hands. Jason had rigged a bomb that would’ve taken the whole warehouse, and the couple ones next to it, up to high heaven. Of course that included the criminals Batman left incapacitated. He had to haul them out of the building before barely escaping himself. 

He found the boy on the narrow path between the warehouse and another two next to it. Jason hadn’t waited, he threw his first punch straight at Bruce’s face and then they were fighting. Various martial arts slowly drawing more inspiration from a drunken brawl. By the end of it, Bruce had Jason’s face against another warehouse wall with his hands behind him and Bruce’s grip on his neck.

He’d bristled like a cat before relaxing quickly, as if he was shot by a tranquilizer. Bruce had worried and dragged Jason down where they could get cover before he smelled the scent again. He had his hand on Jason’s nape still and it was easy to bend his neck over and rub his scent glands for more of that smell. Bruce had him pinned, again, between himself and the wall, lifting his hips and trying to feel the other’s erection against his, rutting like animals.

Jason had come in his pants with a glazed look in his eyes before Bruce could stop. Bruce abruptly stood up, turned around and walked away, and kept walking. He didn’t trust himself and what he would do if he saw Jason’s face.

It took a couple of months before Jason started talking to him again. It was as if they had a silent agreement between them to forget the incident. When Bruce brought it up to apologize, Jason had looked a bit mortified and a lot embarrassed, but he hadn’t gutted Bruce with his knife. 

It took another handful of heats in the span of two years before Bruce vocally admitted that he was attracted to and was probably physically compatible with Jason. Their paths have gravitated towards each other during the past mating seasons, of which there are three in a year. Every time, Jason would challenge him with teeth and claws. Bruce had answered back by pinning Jason on almost any available surface and trying to kiss him to completion. It worked sometimes and those were the days Bruce could get Jason to come home to the manor with him. 

Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t satisfying for Jason, who wanted everything Bruce could give him and tie his life with him in a semi-permanent way. Mating pairs could be as free shifting as one could make it, picking a different partner every mating season, unless you share a bite. It wasn’t the mark that changes your mating dynamic; It was the periodic abuse given to the scent glands during multiple matings, engaging the olfactory senses to memorize and experience various heights with a specific partner during sex.

Jason had laughed at him when Bruce showed him the powerpoint. 

There was also the soulmate theory currently considered a myth by most periodicals. Even when his late father was a staunch believer, Bruce himself didn’t see any truth in it. Till, of course, Jason came back and wedged himself thoroughly in Bruce’s other life.

Humans have always been able to smell compatibility with mates since the beginning of time. That was how the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet came to be, about Lancelot and his king and his queen. Physical and emotional compatibility were sliding scales in reality. It was up to the pair or triad to figure out where to pull or push to get the most out of their relationships. So the idea of absolute resonance, of scents mixing perfectly together and of dynamics settling before they were established, was nothing but a fairytale. 

That didn’t explain how Bruce is trying his best to lick every drop of slick from Jason’s slippery thighs. Jay was squirming on the bed, his body twisting in the sheets, grabbing and pulling and whining high then growling low. It was intoxicating.

He was intoxicating. Jason smelled thickly of his essence when he came from his cock. He shuddered again as he came from his cunt. Bruce had lapped up both releases as he caressed his own cock.

Making your partner yield was one of the ways to settle dynamics: the victor usually go into rut and the loser usually go into heat. Jason was flushed all the way to his ears when Bruce slowly kissed his way up his body. Bruce put a hand on his chest to feel the deep breaths going in and out of his lungs. Then he dipped down to take his nipple between his teeth.

Jason groaned and bucked up at him. His hands gripped the back of Bruce’s head while the other is clamped tight on his upper arm. 

“Bruce,” he gasped. Bruce suckled on his other nipple as he stroked their cocks together. “Don’t tease.”

“I’m not. I’m savoring,” Bruce said. He moved up higher and kissed Jason fully. Jay opened up for him, his legs parting to rest by his waist. Jason broke the kiss, angling his face to the side and taking in heaving breaths. 

“I’m gonna go insane. You need to be in me, like, yesterday,” Jason panted.

Bruce held his cock to Jay's dripping cunt and started to push in and out, slowly, thrusting more of his cock inside. Jason was soft around him, not tight at all. 


	5. CrimsonSpell!AU

It hurts. Jason can feel his heart stutter, trying to bear the gripping pain in his chest. It feels like someone goaded him with a spear. He groans as his knees fall to the ground.

Bruce is by his side in an instant. “Don’t empathize with it. It’s not you. Let it suffer alone.”

That’s easy for him to say. Jason grabs the center of his chest, trying to stop whatever force is making it hard for him to breathe. He takes in big gulps of air and lifts his head high enough to see the creature before him.

The demon towers ahead of him, wrapped in chains and speared by twelve holy swords. It thrashes around despite being incapable of giving damage or escaping its fate. It’s thoroughly bound, its ethereal chain hanging on the ground. Jason’s eyes followed the chain as it moved all the way to where it’s buried to his chest.

The demon jerks harshly, tugging the chain and almost dragging Jason closer to the circle. The action is accompanied by what felt like a bolt of lightning straight to his heart. Jason’s eyes start to burn and his vision gets blurry as he cries.

“It hurts,” he gasps as he falls to the ground. He curls up immediately, trying to fight the pain. “Make it stop. Bruce, make it stop.”

Bruce lays a hand on his head and mutters a string of words. Instantaneously, the image of the demon disappears. The constricting feeling in his chest slowly dissipates with every breath he takes. Bruce scoops him up from the ground to cradle him in his arms.

“I’m sorry. It’s over now,” Bruce says, his words as soothing as the hands he’s running over Jason’s back. “The pain should be gone in a moment.”

Bruce smells like the house of a witch; herbs and spices blending with the scent of the earth before a storm. Still, Jason cries. It takes an embarrassingly long time for him to stop.

“That  _thing_ inside me– How… Who would do this?” he asks when he has wiped his tears and Bruce has washed away the remains of the spell. 

“That’s what we’re going have to find out,” Bruce answers. He jumps on the horse and offers Jason his hand. Jason takes it and Bruce pulls him up his front. “I don’t want you to fall over. You’ve had too much excitement for one day.”

Jason gives him the flirtiest smirk he could manage. “I wasn’t complaining.”

Bruce raises his brow at him, unamused. The corners of his eyes are still tight with worry. Jason turns to take his face in his hands, his thumbs resting on the other’s temples.

“I’m feeling better now. Actually, I was thinking, maybe–” Jason starts but Bruce takes his hands and secures them to the horse’s reigns by tangling them with his. Jason sighs dramatically, wiggling back to make himself comfortable. He stops when Bruce lets out a small annoyed growl. He’s out like a light some moments later.

*******

Jason’s breath is coming out in loud huffs over Bruce’s chest. Only when he’s sure the boy is asleep does he lay his other hand around Jason’s waist. The boy had come by him through less than stellar means. This curse of his, the thing inside him that yearned to kill and destroy, should make Bruce leave him and run for the hills. He tightens his grip around Jason’s waist.

It’s too late for that. Bruce will never desert the boy now, no matter how dangerous he is. He looks down at the boy in his arms. Yes. No matter how dangerous he is for Bruce’s psyche. He won’t leave the boy to fend for his own.

But he hopes to get him settled down somewhere far away, before Bruce himself gives in to his _all too human_  urges.


	6. ABO Egppreg Wingfic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess continuation of the previous story??? Dunno. After Midnight Sandbox 1

 

Jason stands in his bathroom like a prey in the presence of a mighty predator. Bruce doesn’t know what he did to set him off. He’s ready to let the matter go but Jason is holding Bruce’s favorite sleeping robe like his very life depended on it.

It’s intriguing. It feels like a mystery worth cracking.

“Jason.” 

Bruce says his name like a question and a command at the same time. Jason will reply to one or the other and that would dictate Bruce’s strategy.

“I-uh… Here. Your, um, your robe,” Jason answers. Hmm. Hiding something then.

“Thank you,” Bruce says. He takes the end of the robe in his hand but when he tugs it over, he is met with  _resistance_. He tugs harder and Jay whines, soft and quick. 

Jason’s face is as red as his wings when Bruce lets go of the cloth to rummage for another one in his dresser. His wings are arched, puffed and a little bit roughed up, as if he rolled around on the floor somewhere. Alfred will dread cleaning the resulting fallen feathers.

A series of thoughts light up in Bruce’s mind; Tim and Damian’s fight the other day about missing personal items of clothing, Cass circling the manor twice for her favorite sweater, Dick dropping by early this month and leaving with a half-full bag of freshly washed clothes. Bruce has always known he visited the manor sometimes to do his laundry and so the image strikes him as  _uncanny_.

He wants to smile. It feels great when information is made readily available to him. Then he tries hard not to scowl.

Jay’s scent hasn’t changed yet, so he can’t be in heat. It must mean he’s feeling unsure about something. Anxious enough that he’s stealing soiled clothes and  _building nests_.

“Is there… something you need to tell me?” Bruce asks as he takes out a different robe to wear over his naked self. The hesitation in his words isn’t there for any subtle manipulation. Jay seems to make it his pride and joy to answer queries with questions. And Bruce doesn’t want to push him when he’s been pushed far enough.

Proof of that is how long it took Jay to nick clothing from  _him_.

“What makes you say that?” Jay asks back. 

Bruce tries not to sigh but he gives a pointed look at Jason’s hands. Jay doesn’t seem to notice how tightly he’s holding on to the robe. Jay looks down but he only bites his lower lip. His wings give an irritated twitch and Bruce can feel his own rising up in answer. 

“Jay,” he calls him when Jason spends the next couple of seconds staring at everything else but him. He succeeds in calling attention to himself and he moves, slowly, to hold the other by the arms. “If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. I’ll be waiting.”

Jason looks at him with wide eyes, his jaw slack and his wings bent low on the ground. Bruce let his own dark wings arch and cover Jason’s. An affectionate caress. Then he straightens up and heads out to the bedroom.

There’s light beneath the drawn curtains. He can feel it. Bruce hops on the bed and slips under the covers. Jason is standing on the threshold and he’s eyeing the bed like its something worth ditching the robe for. Bruce turns up the covers on the other side and beckons with his hand.

Jason walks over as if in a daze but he gets into bed. He burrows into Bruce’s side, his wings curled tightly around his back. Bruce leans over just enough to cover them with his wings. Then he holds Jason to his body, mindful of his feathers. He runs his hands over Jason’s wings till they both fall asleep.

When Bruce wakes up at noon, both of his robes are gone.


	7. For pinotyaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a fanart they did with Bruce listening to Jay's heartbeat.

Bruce kissed him like he was sipping good wine from his lips. A tentative kiss. An explorative kiss. A tender and slow kiss. Jason’s lips are sore. He whines. 

“Sorry,” Bruce says as he leaves a parting kiss on Jason’s forehead. “I’m just happy you’re alright.” He leans down again to kiss Jay’s cheeks. 

“I-I get it already. Man, you gotta let me go sometime,” Jay complains. Bruce’s hug gets a bit tighter. He presses his cheek on the side of Jason’s head. 

“Never, Jay. Never again,” Bruce mumbles in his hair. Jay can feel his face burning. Tentatively, he wraps his arms around Bruce and buries his face on the side of Bruce’s neck. He holds on. 


	8. For greenfr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on [this](http://greenfr.tumblr.com/post/158897570376/jason-b-go-jogging-with-me-you-promised).

Jason didn’t even have to set up his alarm clock. The sun was shining through the windows as Jason sprinted down the hall in his socks, decked out in exercise shorts and tank top. It was a little past six am and it wouldn’t take an hour or two before it gets too hot to take a run around the manor.

Gotham Summer weather was out in full force. The house was surviving by virtue of old stone architecture, the type that was cold in summer and colder in winter. Bruce has promised to run with him today, a consolation for making Jason sit out all patrols last week due to a cold.

The manor grounds were beautiful in the summer. It had old trees with wide trunks and spread-out leaves. The trail would take them down the hill, around a field of sunflowers, through the forest and out by the roadside leading back to the manor. Jason double checked. It’s about a mile long trail that would take them half an hour to jog, less if they ran. 

He stopped by Bruce’s bedroom door, going through his suite door without knocking. He twisted the handle and let himself in.

“Bruce?” he called out. The room was dark, the only light coming from the private sitting room. The curtains had been closed tight and Jason can hear the snoring coming from the bed. Bruce was lying there, sleeping, his arm behind his head and his other over his stomach, keeping the blankets from slipping off.

Jason sat down on the floor, close to the foot of the bed. He faced the bed at an angle that let him stare at Bruce’s face. “Wakey, wakey, old man.”

Bruce continued to snore. Jason’s lip curled downwards. “Hey, B! Go jogging with me, you promised!” he said, or more like  _yelled_. Nothing else gets through a bat in dreamland.

Bruce jerked and opened his eyes. Then he rolled over and groaned, “It’s six am, Jason. Let me sleep.”

Jason glared at the back of Bruce’s head. It wasn’t even a minute when Bruce started snoring again. Jason huffed and stood up. He grabbed Bruce’s shoulders and turned him around.

“Jay-” Bruce began to grumble, but Jason cut him off.

“You promised, Bruce. C’mon! Get off your huge a–  _behind_!” Jason panted. He’d been trying to push Bruce into sitting up, putting his shoulder against his mentor’s back. “We gotta go– Aaaah!”

He slipped and Bruce toppled down on him. He was  _heavy_. Jason squirmed and yelped as he was slowly crushed under the weight. “Get off, get off! God, why are you like this?!”

Bruce chuckled under his breath and Jason knew because he could feel Bruce’s shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

“I know you’re awake now, don’t make me take you down with– _gah!_  Fine, fine! I’ll get off your hair. Geez,” Jason said in defeat. Bruce rolled off of him and he jumped off the bed.

“Give me two hours, Jay,” Bruce mumbled to the pillow and, wonder of wonders, started snoring again. Jason frowned at him.

“Perhaps, let master Bruce sleep.” Jason whipped his head around and his eyes rested on Alfred. 

“But he promised,” Jason grumbled as Alfred steered him from the bed.

“The master had only returned from patrol. Come now, young sir. There’s breakfast in the kitchen,” Alfred said.


	9. Windseeker2305's Life Cycles AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Windseeker2305’s Life Cycles AU; Mpreg warning, tho no mpreg happens in the story. 

Bruce had been in a tactics meeting when it happened. The storm howled outside his magically warded estate. The royal he was attending to was Commander Falde’s mate. Bruce had gritted his teeth at the memories the young ukatae dug up by his mere likeness. Red hair, energetic, had a mouth that ran 24/7. It was as if Fred made it his life’s mission to be Jason’s shadow. It took all of Bruce’s willpower to keep himself on task. 

Fred had come at his mate’s behest to secure the estate as a possible safe retreat for the Imperial Army. Demaita’s undead army was not more than ten leagues away. There was no time to waste. It took a long time to set up provisions in the beginning but it was over in short time once they secured the help of nearby villagers.

Bruce had looked out the window between plans of fortifying the wards of the estate, his study table littered with blueprints, schemes and spells. The flash of lightning followed by a clap of thunder had broken Bruce’s concentration. There was nothing natural about this storm. Bruce could feel it in the air, the raw power of all the elements being utilized for Demaita’s evil plans. 

There was a knock on the front door. Bruce growled.

“Are you expecting someone?” Fred asked, his hand resting on the hilt of his clan sword. 

“No,” Bruce replied. He has cloaked his body in shadow, calling his weapons to him, as he stalked the darkened halls. Fred was right beside him, thankfully on his right side. He was cloaked as well and had brought his bag of delightful little war toys. 

The knock on the door had roused Alfred. He had the wits not to open the door. Fred stopped and his features took on a strange twist, as if he was trying to see through the solid stone door.

“There’s only one ukatae outside. Looks like a sick kitten left in the rain,” Fred said. Bruce looked at him quizzically,before facing the door. No matter, there was time for questions later. Bruce nodded his assent. Alfred opened the door.

There was indeed one ukatae behind the door, as wet as the howlers that drowned in the river, but this one had no magic signature. Bruce let out a singular strand of his magic, assessing the stranger. Once it reached the man, the strand was swallowed up. The stranger sighed.

“State your business,” Bruce declared. Tendrils of dark magic flickered around him dangerously. There was another flash of light, followed by booming thunder. The light illuminated the stranger’s face.

Jason. It was Jason.

Bruce took a faltering step backward. Alfred let out a rare curse.

“Who’s Jason?” Fred asked, his hand on the hilt of his sword, the other in his bag of tricks. Bruce whipped his head back to face the Jason–no, the intruder–when he stepped forward into the light. 

And it was Jason, in the robes Bruce had buried him in, muddy and wet, the wounds of his death still apparent on his face. Those were bruises now, dark purple with the blood flowing through his veins.

Oh by the Mother… How could this be?


	10. Cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cute BruJay. Can be read as pre-crisis!Jason.

“Bruce! Hey, get a load of this!” 

Jay was pointing at something on the screen. His mask was off even though his suit was on. The Flying Pterodactyl suit, as he lovingly calls it, was a poor imitation of the Robin suit once upon a time. After a few years of it appearing by Batman’s side, it was as natural as rainbows after the rain. Something that was entirely Jason’s.

He was pointing at the younger Batman and Robin duo. They were in charge of the docks this week. Cass’ back was turned as Damian attacked a poor boy in an alley. Cass lifted him bodily in the air and Bruce groans through his hands. He hadn’t resisted the urge to plant his face on his palms.

“Who do you think he got that from?” Jay teased. He leaned back on the chair, taking huge gulps of his protein shake. Bruce half glared at him. On the screen, Damian dropped the camera he’s holding and it shattered on the ground. 

“Ooh, we have to replace that,” Jay commented idly. Bruce frowned as he brushed the hair on Jay’s nape, his fingers scratching his scalp.

“He’ll learn,” Bruce said, half believing his own lie. Jay laughed, his voice full and hearty, a joyous ringing through the cave. 

“Sure, whatever you say, Boss,” Jay quipped. His eyes were alight with mischief and, even when Bruce spent more time denying it, love. He pursed his lips before ducking down to leave a soft kiss on his protege’s smirking mouth.

When Jay decided to make it into something more, Bruce didn’t complain.


	11. Gen & Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tried to follow this dialogue drabble thingy but it didn’t work. I needed to use the phrase “ _Here, let me see._ ” but it never showed up! Like, how fickle is the muse, yeah? 

It was dumb. The drone grabbed Jason by his ankle mid-flip and slammed him to the ground. He’d shot the drone to hell but the damage was done. His ankle was probably on its way to being more than sprained. Mainly because he hadn’t stopped there and continued kicking drones back to their fucking portals.

About an hour later, he knew he had to call it quits and fell back. 

Batman was suitably busy with the other members of the trifecta when Jason came close to the family’s impromptu command center. There was wreckage all around them, sparking robotic limbs and exposed wires everywhere. Other folks were coming down as well, which was what made Jason come see what was going on. Nightwing was holding down the fort, shouting orders to other costumed heroes like replacing broken pieces off the board with shiny new ones. 

The broken ones go in the tent. Pretty big tent by Jason’s estimates. He flipped the flap and peeped in. It had some beds inside, all full, and a couple frantic heroes with healing powers moving from bed to bed. No one’s died yet. None that Jason’s heard. 

One of the youngins looked up, saw him and started to move towards him. “Can I help you? Do you need healing?” she said, her hands raised and glowing with white fire. Jason flinched and shut the tent flap on her face.

“Her name’s Shimmer. She’s a good healer.”

Jason jumped about a feet in the air and stumbled when he put too much of his weight on his ankle. Batman reached out to him, and Jason smacked his hand away.

“Who the fuck asked you?” Jason hissed through his teeth. He didn’t wait for Batman to answer, just started limping in the other direction, away from the shouting and other capes. 

“You’re injured,” Batman said. His voice remained awfully close. Fuck, who asked him to follow?

“Good work, Detective. Now leave me the fuck alone,” Jason replied, trying to put as much venom in his voice as he can. He’d have tumbled away if he can. His ankle was actually hurting him and it’d take some days of his feet to let it heal. 

“Jason–”

Jason turned around, grabbing Batman’s cape and snarling in his face. 

“You don’t get to call me like that,” he growled. Their faces were close enough Jason can see Bruce’s eyes behind the white lenses, wide-eyed and clearly restraining from using Maneuver 15 on Jason. He took a twisted sort of happiness from that.

“If you wanna talk to me, you call me by my name,” Jason said. He knew he's pushing it, but wasn’t that what he’s good that? Pushing everyone’s buttons and watching them explode.

Batman was so still Jason would have thought he didn’t breath if he couldn’t feel his chest moving.

“C’mon. Call my name, Batman,” Jason taunted. Batman snarled at him. He wrenched his cape from Jason’s hand and walked away. Jason felt something like pride unfurl in his chest.

He curled his hands around his mouth and shouted, “It’s Red Hood, old man! You gotta remember that!” 

Batman didn’t stop walking. Jason couldn’t help but feel a little lost at that. Jason shook his head and turned away. Whatever. Jason shook him off, that’s all that matters.


	12. Gen - Robin!Jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another drabble. Same problem, same theme. But I still can’t get that line to come out of their mouths???? Whyyyy???

 

“This is it, Bruce. I’m broke. I can never be Robin.”

Bruce shakes his head as he moves to his new ward– No, his  _son_. Jason has his head in his hands in front of the computer screen. He’s been trying to debug a short program as part of his computer studies. He’s only been at it for half an hour so Bruce can’t see why he’s getting tripped up.

“What’s the problem?” Bruce asks. Jason huffs and raises his hands in the air, almost smacking Bruce’s face. He moves back just in time.

“Me! I’m the problem! I’m just too dumb,” Jason says. “I’m too stupid.”

“No such thing. This is the first time you’ve encountered this, Jason. I admit, Robin managed to solve this in less than an hour, but I’m not expecting the same from you,” Bruce explains. Jason’s shoulders sink lower till he’s hiding his face in his arms over the keyboard.

“I’m telling you, Bossman. I’m dumb. I can’t make heads or tails of this. You’re better off finding a new bird,” Jason mumbles.

Bruce blinks. Jason being dismissive of his own intelligence isn’t new. This insistent pressing, however, is worrying. Perhaps, he gave the boy too much too soon. 

“Why don’t you take a break upstairs? Have a sandwich. I’ll have something different ready for you when you come down,” Bruce says. Jason lifts his head up, his eyes still closed. 

“No, no. I’ll do it. Do or die, right?” the boy says as he rubs the fatigue from his eyes.

“Are you sure?” Bruce asks, his hand hovering to clasp the boy’s shoulder. He lowers it back to his side.

“Yeah. Sorry I called you for nothin’,” Jason says. his eyes are trained on the code scrolling on his screen. Reluctantly, Bruce comes back to his own station. He’s still looking for traces of specific fiber on dirt from the current case. The faster he can finish this, the more he can help Jason later.


	13. Midnight Sandbox of Jun10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Eggpreg fic. Maybe.

"Bruce, we need to talk."

You turn around in the chair, away from the case file you're working on. Jason's tone and the blasted red helmet on his head makes you pause. He's coming close, clearing the three-step platform before halting a few paces away. His body language is relaxed, but his wings are tight against his back.

"Alone," Jason says pointedly and Damian, who was standing behind you with his arm on the back of your chair, raises an inquiring eyebrow. He had to step to the side or get wacked in the face by your wings, a lesson all the Robins learned the hard way.

Damian looks at you, his dark green wings rising and falling in question. _Is he staying or should he go?_

You nod your assent. Damian hides his gesturing by fluffing his wings, as if he's irritated by the proceedings. Jason doesn't move--doesn't _talk_ till you both hear Damian's slow and muffled assent up the stone steps.

"I really mean alone, Babs," Jason says. Then he adds in after-thought, "you too, Tim."

"Alright, Jaybird," the automated machine voice replies from the computer speakers, followed by a low beep.

"Remember we care about you--" another, squeakier voice replies till a mechanic ping signals the end of Tim's transmission.

It takes about a minute before Jason takes in a breath. Possibly, his wings stick closer to his back. You frown.

"You wanted to talk?" you ask and grit your teeth when its Batman's voice that speaks for you.

Jason's wings try to arch and stick to his back at the same time. Its painful to watch. He releases the catch on his helmet and tucks it under his arm. He's bare behind it, his face pallid against the glow of the cave monitors. His eyes look impossibly blue.

"No. I said I wanna talk to Bruce. C'mon, take it off," he taunts.

You're taking the cowl off before Jason finishes talking. Its easy covering the steps between you now, if only Jason didnt take a step back. According to your intel, Jason had been in the Pacific Islands trying to catch escaped laboratory animals turned giant. You haven't seen any physical or pictorial evidence of that case, however, and you've taken to believe that Jason spent the whole of two weeks there getting some sun. Disappointingly without you.

A sweeping observation of him reveals the opposite. Jason tans pretty easily and yet you find no evidence of the sun on his face or on his wrist. No sand on his shoes and clothes. He had the air of someone who had not taken a vacation on the islands but instead stayed underground. In hiding. He looks like he hadnt seen the sun in those two weeks.

You stand in place, trying not let his rejection sting. Your hands itch to soothe the ruffled feathers of his back. It must show on your face, or embarassingly on your wings, because Jason takes a deep breath and steps forward. He keeps stepping forward till he's an arm away and you stop denying your supplicant wings laid low on the ground. They rise in anticipation.

Jason bits his lower lip and acquiesces, his brilliant red wings sliding low to the ground and his arms raised to you. Its easier to pull him in an embrace now. You wrap your wings around him, your hand going to his huge back and soothing the ruffled feathers there. Jason hooks his chin over your shoulder and he takes in a quivering breath.

"Shh. Its alright. Whatever it is, we'll make it alright," you mumble in his hair, your other hand holding the back of his head tenderly. It's all you can do to help alleviate whatever hurt he's feeling right now.

"You're damn right," he murmurs back, and you're relieved and apprehensive at the turn of events. He's still wide-eyed when he pulls away enough to look at you. "You cant get mad at me," he blurts out.

"I'll try not to," you answer honestly. Jason's wings try to tense and fold in on itself again, but you stop that by running your hand deep inside his wings, your fingers raking the skin underneath. Its something that never fails to relax Jason.

"I mean it. You can't get mad at me. This is partly on you too, you know," Jason babbles, his wings dragging low on the ground as you spread his wing oil messily about underneath his feathers. He seems to have neglected caring for his wings in those two weeks he's gone.

You move to rub the fluff on his nape, making Jason close his eyes in mock surrender. He mumbles something unintelligent even to your straining ears.

"Jay, what are you trying to tell me?" you ask.

Jason opens his eyes and bites his lower lip for a second. "My contraceptives failed."

"Are you... carrying now?" you ask as tactfully as you can.

"Yes," Jason says, his eyes boring holes into yours.

You blink. "How..."

"D'you remember that thing with Killer Croc?" 

It was a while ago. Croc had gotten his hands on a drug that enhanced his mutation and gave him a speed and power boost. It takes almost the whole family to take him down.

He also manages to almost break your back, again. If it weren't for Jason...

"My IUD shifted, or so Leslie tells me," Jason elaborates. Croc had thrown him so hard he'd lost consciousness and had to be resuscitated. It takes him a few days to recover and by then, it's heat season.

"That was three months ago," you say plaintively.

Jason nods and he raises chin. "I'm not here to fool you." His voice takes a decidedly defiant tone. You frown.

"I..." You start and realize you don't know how to continue. You push through anyway. "No matter what you choose, I'll support you."

Jason's lips curl like he bit into a peppercorn. He disengages from your embrace, putting a meter that feels like a chasm between you, and the way he uses martial arts to do it raises all kinds of flags.

"I'm supposed to believe you do, just like that?" he asks, sounding so lost its painful.

"Yes," you say, pushing through. This is Jason's doubt rearing its ugly head. You don't try to gather him in your arms again, not right this instant. You bid your time, waiting for the fire that burns in Jason's eyes to cool, waiting for that slack jaw expression of surprise, waiting for his wings to splay themselves in the air not as a threat but in awe.

You match his wings, stretching high up and touching each other's tips. Jason stands there, his body tight with revelation, and you lift your arms to welcome him back. He takes a running start, managing to make you step back with the breadth and weight of him.

 _Whatever you want_ , you tell him inside your head because it feels dangerous to say it out loud. _Whatever you want, Jason, I'll make it happen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to take me out of my head. I'm liable to scrap all of Side B. I'm trying to resist the temptation. (Damn you Bruce. Quit lying to me already.)
> 
> If I'm lucky, I'll be able to fix it with key scenes and details. If you're lucky, you'll get a ton of deleted extra scenes and nothing to show for Side B, officially. I have like, three scenes already in the deleted pile. 
> 
> OTL all that woooorrrkkkk....


	14. Sleepovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason's first time camping with the Titans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, where's the Brujay? Also, jason has amnesia AU.

Dick said it would be fun. Jason's still waiting for _that_ to kick in.

"Anybody else want some tofu burgers?" Beastboy asks from behind the grill, his tongs raised high and pincing in rhythm.

"Aww BB, we want some _real_ burgers," Cyborg complains from the other side of the campsite, grilling hotdogs and beef burgers. He just finished plating ridiculously juicy skewers to a grateful Eddie. Speedy, or Jason suposses his name is Arsenal now, gives a belly laugh from his place by the fire. Donna, Starfire and Raven look fond, like they've been having this debate for ages. 

Beastboy looks contrite anyway. "Tofu burgers are tasty burgers too, you know? And no animal life was hurt in this production."

Jason nods at him and offers his plate. Beastboy looks a litttle too happy when he puts the patty on and sliding some veggie skewers your way.

"I knew you'd come around. Look, even the great Robin wants some of this," Beastboy brags.

"Oh, man. Really? Well, I better fix that with my superior grilling skills, uh huh," Cyborg teases. Jason haven't really sat down yet, but now he has twice the skewers everybody else has. Its not exactly a problem.

It gets to be one when Chase tries to swipe a kabob from Jason's pile and Jason ends up slapping his hand by habit. It's loud and it catches the attention of the rest. Cyborg and Beastboy laugh but Raven's looking questionably at you.

"Ow, Robin. Why are you so mean?" Chase asks. Beastboy is wiping a single tear. 

"I never knew this day would come," he says while Cyborg gets busy passing some kabobs to Chase's plate.

"Sorry. It's reflex," Jason replies and leaves it at that.

He gets steadily uncomfortable as the evening wears on. Something about fires in tall cans and the unforgiving Gotham cold. Jason digs into his food viciously. Atleast he has food now, will always have it, so long as he lives with the Bat.

Food, shelter, clothes. God, the warm _baths_. 

So long as he's Robin, he will have all these things. And when he's old enough, Bruce might even give him the cowl.

For now, he bides his time and doesnt tell the rest how utterly ridiculous the camping feels like to him, that these rich people get to call sleeping out in the wilds a _hobby,_ and the waste that comes from not finishing their food.

Jason finishes his plate but the gnawing chasm in his chest remains...

* * *

 

Jason takes the photograph from its pride and place on his childhood bedside table. Its old but kept in good condition, most likely by Alfred. The frame is a nice touch.

Bruce never lets go of his grip on Jason's elbow.

"What did you see?" he asks. 

Jason shrugs. "Nothing important."


	15. Call me Stray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catlad!Jason - inspired by [this](http://eskimosheep.tumblr.com/post/149839210381)
> 
> I tried to write some wing AU porn, but it led to this. OTL Still no Bruce but we're getting warmer.

"Hey, kitty. Move over."

The black cat growls and purrs. The boy is wet but preferable than the cold stone of the alley. He takes up all the space in the box. The cat jumps on his shoulder to sleep. Every once in a while, the boy coughs. 

He's shivering now. His tiny body is warm. Perhaps, it is brought on by fever. The cat calls out to him.

He will not last the winter.

* * *

 

"Here, kitty. I got some food left."

The boy offers a part of his meal. The cat eats it and rub its body against his for more.

"Sorry. It's all I have for now."

* * *

 

The cat rubs their body against the sleeping boy. He stopped shivering moments ago. The cat yowls. The boys stays silent. 

The cat bites him.

Blood wells from the wound, but the boy remains stiff and unmoving.

The cat calls out to others of their kind. The cat sings.

Round pairs of luminescent orbs flicker all around them. One by one, the cats add their voices to the song. A chorus of them now, chanting and moving things unseen. A powerful force descends upon them. The pressure rises. The boy's body jerks and his eyes are a brilliant cat's eye gold when he opens them. He takes in gasp after gasp of air as he sits up in the cardboard box. 

All the cats pass by him one after another. He pets them in child-like wonder, as if he's seeing the world anew. The bite mark on his hand heals and seals without him even noticing. The black cat stays. 

They curl around each other in the box. The boy sleeps undisturbed. He isn't bothered by the cold anymore.

* * *

Selina wakes up sweaty and panting. Impossible, but...

Isis complains as she treads on Selina's many-threaded blanket. Her claws catch on the cloth, leaving ugly tufts. Selina purrs back at Isis indulgently.

"Yes, food. We woke up and we're both so hungry," she murmurs and Isis rubs her face on Selina's cheeks.

Isis wants her wet canned food today, so Selina heats that up in a platter in the microwave. There's left over chicken in the fridge for Selina and she puts that in the microwave too. Soon, human and cat eat their brunch.

"Isis, is it possible to bestow the Cat's blessing to more than one person?" Selina asks her friend non-chalantly. Isis stops eating long enough to complain.

"Okay, alright. No need to get hissy at me. I'm just asking," Selina says.

When Selina goes out, she leaves the window open for Isis. "Don't make too much trouble without me," she calls. The cat answers with a meow and a flick of her tail.

* * *

Selina struts proudly in her condo. "Isis, darling, look who I brought back!"

Isis sticks her head in the living room to see what all the ruckus is about. When she doesn't see anything huge, dark and overbearing, she moves further into the room.

There's a black kitten in the arms of a young boy.

"Go and sit on the couch Jason. Don't worry, she doesn't bite."

Selina ushers them to the couch and Isis jumps up to get a good long sniff. The boy and the kitten smell the same, like a dumpster. Isis sneezes and Selina laughs. 

She shuffles the boy to the water room, leaving Isis with the new kitten. She snorts at the human need to drown themselves in water, oils and essences. She snatches the kitten up instead. The little thing tried to make a break for Isis food bowl and that would not do.

She sits on the kitten and gives him a bath.

* * *

"So you're telling me I'm like you? Is that how you found me?" Jason asks Selina after dinner. The bruises he won from a fight with the butcher are healing faster than Jason thinks it should.


	16. Call me Stray P2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catlad!Jason - [Look at these](http://komru.tumblr.com/post/86851160876/continuing-with-the-whole-catladjason-x) [pretty art](http://everking.tumblr.com/post/81716491646/tim-as-selinas-prot%C3%A9g%C3%A9-seems-to-be-really)
> 
> Featuring Selina. Bruce is sadly not in the vicinity. Yet.

Selina walks out of the gates with her heels clicking against the floor. It captures the attention of some passengers and personnel, but never mind that. It's been entirely too long since she's been in Gotham. She may roam, but she will always come back. 

"Hey, Momma!"

She turns around. It's Jason, wearing a pair of jeans and a low-cut shirt not even covered by his suit jacket. He's wearing shades as well, but its not from a designer Selina favored. 

Selina walks up to Jason. She wraps both arms around him in a hug. Jason stoops low to receive it from her, even with her heels. 

"Jason, its so good to see you," Selina says. She puts a hand on his cheek and lowers her glasses to peer into his cerulean eyes. They contract, becoming beautiful dark sapphire cat eyes. Selina can feel her own pupils contract in reaction. Not a split second sooner, she puts her shades back and kisses Jason's other cheek.

"It's good to see you too, Ma," Jason replies. He straightens up into a dignified slouch, deftly taking hold of Selina's luggage. Selina lets him do it. She puts her arm behind him instead, around his waist, and they walk companionably down out of the airport.

They make it out of there and into a Jason's car-of-the-week with as minimal fuss possible. There's a lone paparazzi wholly bent on taking a picture. Jason smiles his trademark sleazy grin, and the crowd parts for them to walk through. Selina concedes that might actually be because of Jason's height and the breadth of his shoulders. But Selina prefers to feel proud of her kit's talents than his physique. Specially since she's the one who taught him most of what he knows.

The car is beautiful in the way predators are. It's downright terrifying, and Selina can't wait to get behind the wheels and really take this one for a drive. It must have shown on her face because Jason's lips pinch together and he pockets the electronic key while Selina's distracted. 


	17. Stray P5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snippets again. xD I need some Awkward BruJay (and OMG how could I forget Isis at the airport?!)

Selina saunters into the suite like she never left. She lets Jason carry her hefty luggage in her bedroom. Shadow, who leapt up on the counters to check the door, goes still as a doll before bolting down and out the window. Isis pounces from Selina's arms and runs after the tom.

"Make sure you're not late for dinner!" Selina calls out after them. She dumps her bag on the couch and makes a beeline for the fridge. It's empty except for some beer and a bottle of expired milk.

"Jason, there's no food!" she calls out. "I'm gonna ring for pizza. Do you want pizza?"

"Sure!" Jason answers, sounding strained. "What did you bring back from Guatemala? Bricks?"

"Just a couple bars of gold!" she teasingly hollers back. She drapes herself on the couch to snatch the phone from the end table when the doorbell rings. "I got it!"

Selina stands up and fixes her clothes before peering through the spyglass. Then she opens the door.

"My, my. News do travel fast," Selina purrs. 

Bruce Wayne blinks at her. He's wearing a beautiful blue tuxedo and gray shirt, with a wonderful red tie. Selina allows her gaze to move, as slow as molasses, down the length of Bruce's perfectly trimmed couture to the tips of his expensive leather shoes. He looked good enough to eat.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Wayne?" she asks as she hears Jason step in close behind her.

"I-" Bruce began but his gaze shifts quickly to the space above Selina's left shoulder. He continues, "-heard you were back. How was Guatemala?"

"It was hot, but there's no reason not to make it warmer," she replies with a wink. Bruce looked halfway to swallowing a lemon, which is insulting and absurd.

"Bruce! What brings you here? Did you, uh, need help with anything?" Jason says. He opens the door wider to accommodate his bulk next to Selina's.

"No," Bruce answers. He pulls up a huge, brown, paper bag from behind him. Something in it smells delicious. "I wanted to give you this. Figured you wouldn't have time to prepare."

Selina cocks her head to the side. "I've only been back a few hours. Have you been feeding him while I was away?" It made sense, somehow. Where else would her kit be getting food?

"Something like that," Bruce says as he hands the package over. Jason's hands can reach for it. The back of his neck is as red as a peach. "Welcome back, Selina."

"Thank you. That's so sweet. You can come in, if you'd like?" she asks, then her eyes falls on the pin holding a boutonnière on Bruce's tux. "Unless you're busy?"

Bruce shakes his head. "Some other time. Goodnight, Selina. Jason." Then he nods and walks away.

"Are we waiting on pizza?" Jason asks her when they close the door and unpack the food.

"Never had the chance to call," she answers. Inside the bag is a couple, big bowls of noodles and a plate of pot-stickers from that Thai place she adored. Jason smiles down on the food a half-second too long. _Curious_.

"I'm starving," Selina says, grabbing the bowls and taking the over to the table. "Can you be a dear and get the soup spoons and chopsticks?"


	18. Stray P3 (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I need the BruJay. Very Porn. Don't read when your boss have really good eyesight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will finish tomorrow when i have more brain space.

It was a quiet night. The moon was bright in the sky and the air is warm, smelling faintly of smoke. It was a night meant for a run.

Stray yowled at the moon. He perched on the highest ledge of the clock tower, sweating lightly in his body suit. It was a clear summer night and he was _ready_.  

He jumped off the ledge, laughing at the breeze on his face. He reached with his grapple, slowing his descent. He flipped lightly wherever he could touch. He rolled as he landed on the rooftop next to the tower. Then he was off, running and flipping off rooftops. The night was young and it was _his_ to make. 

He spied a black blanket slipping into an alley on the street below. He followed sedately. 

Batman cornered a mean-looking dude. The dude yelled and Batman slammed him on the wall. Stray drew closer, wanting to hear Batman _growl_.

The dude looked ready to piss himself. Batman tugged him off the wall, ripped the insignia off his jacket and threw him out of the alley. He fell face first into the concrete and Stray wanted to laugh at how he'd ran away with his tail caught between his legs. Batman uncurled his fist when the dude was well and away. Stray couldn't get any closer without alerting the Dark Knight so he only saw a glimpse of a swastika, the kind that killed people. Batman snarled and, oh, Stray loved that sound. He tore the insignia in his hands, ripping it to shreds.

Stray decided to stick close to Batman tonight.

 _It's a fairly quiet night for patrol_ , Stray supposed when Batman scared the jeebers out of three nervous muggers, two kids playing pimp and an opportunistic bum. Stray goes down himself to leave pamphlets for soup kitchens and pizza houses in the area. If the poor fuck didn't take Batman's offer to work at Wayne Ent, at least he'd know where to get a bite to eat around here, free-of-charge.

But Stray kept to himself as the night wore on. 

It was art, watching the Dark Knight put man after man on the ground. When the hour wore on, Stray couldn't help himself anymore.

He pounced.

Batman moved instantly to deflect him, but Stray had been watching the man fight all night. He knew all his weak spots. He had Batman on the floor in less than a second, using the man's momentum and sweeping his feet off the ground. He pounced again and purred.

"Stray," Batman said, sounding just a little irritated. Stray smiled down at him, using his knees to keep the man's thighs on the ground. He put more of his weight on Batman's wrists when the man wriggled. He pulled as high up as he could manage, leaning down to kiss his bare jaw.

Batman stilled under him, and that wasn't fun. "Been watching you all night, Spooky," Stray murmured, trying to steal a kiss by pressing his lips along Batman's jaw.

"Did you go into Poison Ivy's garden again?" Batman asked, robotic. Stray groaned. 

"It's not always about catnip, big guy," Stray replied. He moves his legs higher, straddling the unforgiving armor by the hips. It felt good to him, rubbing the his sex against the cup he knew was under the suit.

This time, Batman growled.

" _Stray_."

"Uh-huh, keep saying my name like that," Stray replied. He leaned down to lick Batman's lips before the world turned upside down. He was pinned to the ground now, his wrists kept by a hand above his head. A gloved hand gripped his chin, tilting his face for a long and deep kiss. Stray sighed into it.

When he opened his eyes, he was staring at worried blue eyes.

Stray snorted. "I'm not under anything," he explained.

"Your actions beg to differ," Batman replied. Then he stood up, taking all that glorious weight off of Stray. 

He pouted as Batman reached down to help him up. He accepted the hand and tugged, causing Batman to fall down. Then he took a running start and jumped on an escape ladder. "Come and get it, old man!" he barked.

It was a breathtaking chase across the rooftops. Stray stopped every couple of minutes to check if Batman was still following, managing to dance out of his grasp at the last second. The distance between them grew shorter and shorter, till Stray found himself pinned down again by his wrists, narrowly missing a sun roof.

"Looks like you caught me," Stray said, his words coming out in strangled gasps.

"I did," Batman replied.

"What'r'you gonna do about it?" he teased.

Batman was silent for a moment. "Nothing." Then, to prove his point, he let go of Stray and made to stand up.

Stray growled. "Why do I gotta do all the work?" He flipped them over and yanked Batman's hands to settle them around his waist. "A guy tells you he's been watching you all night, you say _yes_ to the drink and _no_ to the dance?"

"If it was someone else, I'd have dropped them down the pound," Batman said.

"Come on," Stray whined, "You can't be this dense."

"No, I'm not."

Stray looked down to see Bruce's shit-eating grin. He tried to swipe his hand on his chest (his damned armor can take a few scratches) but only succeeding in getting his paw captured. Batman kisses his knuckles in apology. "What brought this on?" he asked.

Stray looked at the moon. "It's a bright moon tonight."

"That doesn't help your case," Batman replied. He looked like he thought Jason was high on moonshine.

Stray snorted. "It's a thing, ok? The night feels awesome, but not in a _Lemme pick a fight with Killer Croc_ way, you know?"

" _Have_ you been picking fights with Waylon Jones?" Batman scolded. Stray pouted before he crumpled under Batman's gaze. He looked to the side.

"Some nights. He's good for training reflexes," Stray confessed.

Batman scowled. "He can break you in half."

"Not if he doesn't want Catwoman to tan his hide," Stray answered, the corner of his lips pulling in a snarl. "Are gonna talk about them all night? Time's a wasting."

Stray tucked his thumb under his belt and unlatched it. He leaned his hips forward, making a show of it. He winced when Batman's other hand gripped his waist tightly. He let go of Stray's other hand.

Slowly, Stray dragged his pants down his hips and past his ass. His cock jutted out, already chubby and thick. He was about to yank his gloves off when Batman put a condom on the tip. "The fuck?"

"Infections are real, and they hurt," Batman said. Stray took off his gloves, threw them to the side and rolled the condom down the length of his cock. Then he pawed below Batman's belt. He felt gently through every nook and cranny, looking for the right tab to pull, switch to push. 

" _Sonuvabitch_. How do you get this thing off?" he muttered under his breath.

Batman laughed before leading Stray's fingers to pull five hidden tabs. Then Stray was pulling out _his_ cock, as thick as Jason's, and it wasn't even  _half-hard_. Jason let out a ragged breath at the thought of having him inside.

Batman handed him another condom and Stray slid it on. He lined their cock's together. Batman handed him a packet of lube.

"Damn. If this wasn't my idea, I'd think you planned this," Stray teased.

"Never hurts to be prepared," Batman answered.

"And you have a line of people just waiting to have your cock," Stray replied. He covered their cocks with lube and relished the first slide. He gripped both their cocks in his hand, moving his hips slowly and deliberately.

Bruce smirked up at him. "There's not enough hours in a day to go through that list."

"I guess I should feel lucky, but I _hate_ sharing," Jason confessed. Bruce cradled his face in his palm, and Jason nuzzled back, wrinkling his nose at the smell. 

"There's no need to worry," Bruce said.

Jason felt his heart jump at the sincerity of his answer. Then he grinned. "I'll hold you to it, old man."


	19. Stray p4 (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OR what I would like to call, the porn.  
> Sorry you all got cliffhanged and cockblocked. Can't help RL.  
> AND there, the gloves are off xDDD

 

He took off one of his gloves and fished for the small butt plug he'd put in earlier that evening. Then he played with himself, opening his mouth and licking his lips all the while. He knew he was putting on a show. Batman's hand gripped his thigh.

Jason surged forward, catching Bruce's lips in another bruising kiss. He opened up for his tongue. Bruce clenched his hand on his thigh again and Jason pulled back. Then he pulled his toy out. 

It was one of those dime-a-dozen slim silicon plugs, a real toy compared to Bruce's cock. Jason slid it in one of the longer pockets in his suit. He licked his lips again as he reached back and worked his body. It was kinda mechanical, letting him focus on the drag of his hand on their cocks. Bruce took his hands off Jason's thigh and waist and he ripped off his gloves after pulling five more hidden tabs. Then it was his huge, calloused hand gripping their cocks. Jason let go to press the heel of his hand on Bruce's shoulder and give himself room to _play_.

Jason licked his lips _again_ and Bruce leaned forward, capturing his mouth in another breathtaking kiss. Jason moaned as Bruce gripped their cocks tighter, his hand clenching into a fist on Bruce's shoulder. Then Jason cursed and lifted himself on his knees. Bruce let his cock slip easily from his grasp but his hand gripped vice-hard on Jason's thigh when he meant to go down on his dick.

"You can't be having second guesses now," Jason complained. 

Bruce continued as if he didn't hear the growl in Jason's voice. "You were too fast."

"It's called a quickie for a reason," Jason answered. "It's gonna be tight."

Then he lowered himself on that huge cock, inch by burning inch. If Bruce had been bigger, Jason would have wondered if he'd fit. Bruce's hand rubs his cock absentmindedly, his hand still clenched around Jason's thigh. Jason breathed deep and sighed as his thighs met Bruce's.

He bounced a bit, trying to see if he could take the burn, and surprised himself by the tingling not-pain burning pressure inside him. It was a good sensation, full, and he felt as if an itch inside him was finally getting scratched. He was even beading a little, pearling cum out of the slit of his cock.

Jason looked forward, seeking Bruce's face. He looked like he was in pain, which was hilarious considering he wasn't the one being spitted by cock. His eyes were intense, and Jason averted his before remembering himself. He pat Bruce's hand away from his cock so he could take himself in his hand. Bruce's hand moved to his other thigh where he rubbed silly circles on exposed skin. Jason's breath hitched. He found the angle where Bruce's cock rubbed his prostate. He leaned down, slowly, trying to make this last longer.

"C'mon. Don't let me do all the work, big guy," Jason taunted. He ground himself with the heel of his hand next to Bruce's face. Bruce shifted his legs and, wow. He was meeting Jason with his thrusts. He'd also stopped looking like Jason held him at gun point. 

"Can't disappoint you now, can we?" Bruce teases back and Jason kisses him. 

"Crap, I'm-- I don't think I can last," Jason gasped. 

Bruce grunted. "Then don't."

Jason gasped. A sharp cry tore from his throat and out into the night. Bruce kept his pace. He looked red in the face. He thrust up once, twice and came. Or Jason thought he did. He looked blissful, his lips parted on gritted teeth. After a while, Jason lifted himself up and off Bruce's lap while the man held his condom in place. Fishing for that would have been a not-fun experience.

It didn't take forever to fix up. Jason slid the condom off his cock, tied it off and threw it to the side. Bruce caught it and it disappeared in one of the compartments in his belt.

"Why? Like anyone's gonna come here and take it," Jason asked.

"Doesn't matter. It's still a trail," Batman answered. He'd tucked himself in already.

Stray pouted. "Whatever floats your boat."

He even had tissues that he passed on to Stray before he put on his gloves. It disappears with the used condoms while Jason pulled up his tights and tugged on his gloves. Lube made his ass feel slippery. When Stray turned around, Batman was standing with his cape wrapped around him like a shroud. Stray grinned and he wrapped his arms around those hard shoulders. Then he kissed him, open-mouthed and slow, exactly what Stray craved post-sex. Batman proved not to be made of actual stone by placing his hand on the small of Stray's back and pushing forward to deepen their kiss.

Stray sighed when they separated. Then he looked up at the moon. 

"It's a real nice night," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we have the one dick. lol! Thanks for staying~


	20. Bunny!Jay Part1 (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay in a bunny suit, sitting on Bruce's lap. PART 1  
> For Pinotyaki <3

Jason blushed when he looked at himself in the mirror. The bunny suit was all Bruce’s fault. Jason asked him what he wanted on his birthday and after getting the generic ones out of the way (wishes for good health, that sort of thing,) the old man blurted out wanting to see Jason in a bunny suit. Jason had been generous ( _really generous_ since they’d been post-coital and sharing the afterglow of _his_ awesome birthday sex) that he’d said _yes_.

Here they were, Mr. Bruce and Jason _Smith_ , out shopping for sex toys and costumes, spicing up the lovely wedded life. Jason left Bruce out the dressing room. Last time he saw him, the old man had cracked open one of the magazines. If he didn’t stop him, Bruce might buy the whole catalogue. He really should get out now and just… face the wind, uh, face the music.

He could feel the draft against his thighs. It sort of reminded him of his Robin days and he couldn’t believe the old suit wasn’t all that much warmer than this one.

The attendant dropped off the rest of the accessories earlier. Apparently, Bruce asked for Jason to model the thing, but the attendant caught a glimpse of Jay’s scarred back and the request became a command. The dude hasn’t been by since.

Jay fiddled with the laces of the hooded cape, running his fingers through the soft, red satin. The costume was every bit as soft as the cape, hugging his figure. The fishnets were a nice touch and the boots… oh, the boots…

Those were hell packed in eight inches of heel. Jason was still not sure how it can stay on. The suede leather went up past his knees. Every time he took a step, he sent a little prayer to heaven. It was that hard to walk in. Nothing but Robin grace was saving him now.

“Jason, you’ve been in there for a while. D’you need any help?” Bruce’s voice called from a distance.

“I’m okay, I’m coming out!” Jason answered. He looked into the mirror again. There was no way to hide the scars that littered his body. A mean-looking one slashed across his thigh, hiding its tail under the boots. He worried a gunshot scar on his boob with his fingers.

“Jason?” Bruce called again.

“I heard yah, geez!”

Jason turned around slowly, wrapped the tiny cape around him and took a fortifying breath. Then he drew the curtain.

Bruce was leaning against a display of masks and whips, talking to the attendant. He turned to glance at Jason before resuming his conversation. But then his jaw twitched and he turned his gaze back so fast, _Jason_ got whiplash. There was a hungry sheen in his eyes and Jay pointedly did not look at his midriff, lest he see the full effect he had on the man. The costume didn’t hide a whole lot and Jason didn’t want to walk around with a stiff wood, no, thank you.

That might happen anyway, since Bruce took huge strides to crowd him against the fitting room entrance. He’d taken a wobbly step back and would have fallen on his ass if Bruce didn’t slip an arm around his waist and tugged him close. And _woah_. Hello there. Yep, Jason was definitely feeling his interest. There’s no getting out of here without tented pants.

Bruce had taken a long look at his face before the hand on Jason’s waist drifted lower to his ass. Well, shit. No need to ask if he liked the costume. A finger ghosted the place where costume and skin meet. “Is it comfortable? Not too tight?”

Jason buckled and lowered his gaze to Bruce’s chin. “It’s fine.”

Bruce looked like he wanted to kiss him, so Jason turned away to stare at a display of dildos in the corner. Bruce turned back to the attendant. “We’ll take it. Can you find him the same boots, with shorter heels?”

“Yes, sir! Right away, sir!”

Jason glanced at the disappearing back of the attendant, rushing to fulfill Bruce’s order. “What did you do?” he asked, pointing a suspicious glance at his partner.

“Nothing.” But the man had come in the store in a fancy suit, wearing shades and chewing on a cigar. Both of them had, actually. That, paired with Jason’s battle scars, probably gave the good, bad impression to the store managers.

It was a nice boutique, not the hole-in-the-wall lingerie stores Jason saw littered the Avenue. They had a visitor’s check-in at the front. Bruce dropped their fake names and the concierge (do you call them concierge?) closed the book without looking in it and let them in.

Bruce reached out to grab one of the bunny ears. Jason swatted his hand away.

“You can’t just grab it,” he complained. Bruce laughed under his breath.

“Mr. Smith, why don’t you try these?” The attendant asked, holding out a pair of boots with three-inch heels. Jason swayed mid-step; Bruce arm went around his waist again, keeping him glued to the man’s side.

“We’ll take it and the next size as well.”

Jason sputtered at Bruce. “I can try it on, get the right size-”

Bruce grimaced. “I can’t. I want to take you home now.” He accented his words by gripping Jay’s ass cheek with one hand and grinding his hips against his. Jason’s face burned. The bunny suit had a well-placed hole at the back and he felt Bruce’s fingers dig into the skin of his ass.

He gulped. “Okay.” Then he took a deep breath that smelled of oranges and mint. “Okay.”

“Get changed. We’re leaving,” Bruce said. He’d closed the curtains before going away, with telltale clicks of his shoes on the floor. Jason tried the boots on for size anyway, much to the attendant’s disappointment.

When Jason came out, Bruce had his hands in his pockets, hunched over a vibrating dildo that looked like one of those dancing-man figures outside car dealerships. It’s a bit traumatic to look at. Bruce signed something and took the paper bag from the teller. It’s big, black and discrete, with white onion paper _froufrou_ covering the top.

“We’ll deliver the rest shortly,” the teller said.

“The rest?” Jason asked, jogging a bit to catch up with Bruce. They’re leaving through the back of the store, the exit feeding into a restaurant on the opposite side of the street.

Jason grabbed Bruce’s hand and tugged. “We’re going the wrong way.”

“There are paparazzi in the parking lot. The valet’s been instructed to drive around for an hour.” Bruce came closer and let go of Jason’s hand to sling an arm around his shoulders.

Jason let out a sound at the back of his throat, needy and irritated. An hour wasn’t enough.

“Exactly,” Bruce replied, his voice halfway to Batman’s growl, “and the hotels in this area are bugged.”

“I told you the Lambo was a bad idea.” Jason wistfully stared at the hotel sign outside.

Bruce walked him away from the door. Their table was in a private room, with windows that managed to get the good side of Gotham Bay. It had all the pomp and glamour Jason expected from _Brucie Wayne_ and its making him think Bruce signed his real name at the door.

“Can’t we just, iunno, duck in the restroom?” Jason asked, not with a bit of bite.

Bruce had lost some of the hungry look he wore inside the shop. “Bugged, and most likely where the paparazzi would come looking when they find out we’re not in the boutique anymore.”

The waiters breezed by, laying down a small bowl of soup in front of Jason. She’d left a spoon beside it.

“We could also, you know,” Jason said when the waiters were gone. He pumped his fist in front of his mouth. Bruce’s jaw clenched, and then he resolutely tucked into his soup.

It was really good soup, Jason thought. It smelled nice, was spicy and a little runny, and the rice and meat combo was great. The experience was mired by the fact that he’d been more than enthusiastic (kinda drooling for it actually) to have sex in the car, or anywhere, as long as it was right fucking now. He glared at Bruce across the plate of salmon when he realized he wasn’t hard anymore.

Sometime between the fourth and fifth dish, Jason slipped his right foot out of his shoe and ghosted Bruce’s inner thigh. He smirked when Bruce jumped in his chair. A shrimp rolled off his plate and to the floor. It left a messy streak on the table cloth on its way down.

Dessert was cake soaked in something like three cup’ a Joe’s and topped with a lot of whipped cream. Jason made sure to lick his spoon clean. _Slowly_.

After dessert, a regal-looking old dude handed Bruce a card on a silver tray. Bruce shoved it in his jacket. Jason was still smirking as Bruce’s fingers dug into his arm, and they marched, almost jogged, out the restaurant.

A waiter went ahead of them, carrying the bag with the _froufrou_. It disappeared in the trunk of the Lamborghini. Bruce didn’t even let go as he took the keys from the valet, handed a neat cylinder of rolled-up bills in return and almost tossed Jason into the Lambo.

Jay nearly clipped himself on the damned roof. (Sports cars were not known for spacious interiors.) But, oh boy, Jason felt it when Bruce handed him the car keys.

“You want me to drive?” Jason asked. Then he shook his head. “Of course you do. Wouldn’t’ave given me the keys if you didn’t.” The engine purred as he turned on the ignition, and Jason can feel it rumbling behind him, through the seats. It never stopped being cool.

“Wouldn’t have pushed you to the driver’s seat,” Bruce answered. He was smiling at Jason with this really slow, almost lazy lilt of his lips.

Jason gulped and turned his head to face the road.

They passed by the boutique from the other side of the parkway. There were a number of paps hanging out at the front of the store, being pushed back by a couple of harassed guards. Luckily, no one was paying their ride any attention, or if they did, they were too late. Jason pressed on the pedal as soon as he saw the crowd. Bruce had taken to sliding down his seat till they were further away.

“How’d they know it was you, boss?” Jason asked, his hands gripping the wheel. The fake ring on his finger caught his eye as it bit into his skin.

The square, blue-ish rock encased in a thick band of gold glittered in the light. Jason swore it actually changed colors, and not like those magic “emotion” rings that changed hues according to the wearer’s temperature. This ring went from dark blue to bright green depending on the light.

Bruce wore the same thing, a matching pair. Jason tried not to think about what that meant. _Fake covers need fake rings_ , he told himself. _It’s probably just glass._

“Boss?” Jason asked again, his hands steady on the wheel and his gaze landing on the man in the passenger’s seat before flicking back to the road.

Bruce shrugged. “Should’ve taken the Murciélago.”

“No. No way. I already told you, it was the Diablo or the Hurican. Never the Bat. How are you doing this?” Jason complained, and then he laughed. “Murciélago, my ass. The BMAN license plate not enough for you, you had to get the _commercial_ batcar? And don’t change the subject.”

“It’s my birthday, Jay. Don’t you trust me?” Bruce teased.

Jason stopped at the red light and turned to face the man. “Bruce, I _love_ you. There’s a difference.” The light turned green and Jay took a left turn. “Please tell me you did not just _out_ Brucie Wayne to the vultures of Gotham?”

Bruce was quiet for all of five seconds, enough for Jason’s eyes to widen in horror.

“Fuck- You did, didn’t you? Shit-”

“Jay, it’s okay. It isn’t something that wouldn’t blow over in a week or two,” Bruce explained, his hand coming to rest on Jason’s thigh. “Access to the boutique was by personal invitation only.”

“What’s up with this then? The Smiths?” Jason asked back, gesturing to the rings. The traffic stopped for the light again and Jason took the time to glare at Bruce. The man looked… contrite.

“I instructed the management to take us under a different name, in case someone comes digging,” Bruce explained. “The boutique was a recommendation from a friend.”

Jason arched one of his brows and continued to glare at Bruce.

Bruce folded like a pack of cards. “Rumors say McConnell went there with his companions the night he disappeared.” Now that- _That_ sounded more like Bruce.

Jason huffed. “Still working even though it’s your birthday? I can’t believe it- Wait. Yes, I do. _Transparency_ , boss. You don’t want me being all smoke and mirrors now, do you?” he threatened. Bruce actually flinched, his thumb brushing circles on Jason’s thigh.

“No,” Bruce replied.

“No, what?” Jason prodded.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you,” Bruce amended.

Jason blinked. “Yeah, you should’ve.” The light turned again and Jason pressed on the pedal. Bruce didn’t complain.

Jason watched the scenery change from the bright and glass buildings of the business sector to the drab and dull dwellings of the poorer folk. He made another left turn when he should have made a right.

Bruce hummed. His hand didn’t leave Jason’s thigh.

“Are we back to hums, grunts and monosyllabic sentences?” Jason asked snidely.

When he turned to look, Bruce only shrugged with a slight tilt of his head. “You know where we’re going. I trust you.”

Jason growled as he turned into a parking garage. This side of town was sort of a middle ground between the ritzy and decaying. It was a breeze going up the ramps, almost all the way to the top. A sedan slowly passed by on the non-existent opposite lane, the driver’s eyes growing as large as saucers. Jason parked the car in the only free space: a darkened corner lot. He put on the brakes and turned off the ignition before resting his hands on the wheel. He took in one deep long breath. Then let it out with a sigh.

“This isn’t a trust-fall exercise. You can’t just- just-…” Jason started, feeling real anger building up inside him.

“I love you, too,” Bruce replied. “I’m sorry I kept this a secret from you.”

Jason felt the back of his neck start to burn. “I don’t want- I don’t want you to hurt yourself over this.”

Bruce lifted his hand from Jason’s thigh. Jay felt it brush a lock of hair away from his eyes. He still couldn’t look at the man. “I’ve weathered worse,” Bruce said.

The winter gala a couple of months ago had been abuzz with rumors of the Wayne Patriarch coming out as bi in support of his son. Dick had shown up, all cheerful and charismatic while Jason stayed on the fringes, trying to disappear between the foliage. He and Bruce had been caught kissing under one of the tall arches. A hundred articles publishing slander upon slander on Bruce Wayne and Jason added another by simply existing.

“Jay,” Bruce called. “Forgive me?”

Jason frowned. “Promise me you’re not doing any more of this secretly married crap.”

“I promise. I’ll try better next time. Secrets… have been an integral part of me. It’s hard to let go.”

“Yeah,” Jason replied before allowing himself to lean his cheek into Bruce’s open palm. “It sucks you didn’t trust me enough with this op.”

“I do trust you. I didn’t think the paparazzi would be a problem. An oversight. I won’t let it happen again.”

“By sharing your secrets with me, right?”

It took a heartbeat for Bruce to answer. “Yes.”

Jason felt his lips quirk up in a smile. “Like where you keep the keys to the new batmobile?”

“Negotiable. You’ve wrecked more cars than Tim and Dick combined.”

“That’s because I always bring it back. Can’t say the same for your other birds.”

Bruce huffed, amused and charmed in parts. “Please forgive me,” he asked again, and Jason made the mistake of looking in his eyes.

Jason averted his gaze and bit his lip. “Or we can pretend to be mad and have hot angry sex.”

Bruce’s face actually soured a bit before clearing up. Like, _now_ he got the idea of the Lambo, Jason and Sex. Better men have had it worse.

Jason did forgive Bruce, sometime between riding him on the passenger’s seat and getting fucked sideways on the driver’s, his hips pushed up by the middle compartment, the shifter ridges and buttons digging on the meat of his ass. He had to keep an arm above his head or he’d risk a concussion. It was nothing short of a miracle how two men fit in that thing, doing what they were doing.

But the highlight of the event must be that moment when Bruce managed to lace their fingers together against the window, their rings shining when it caught the light. It was kinda poetic and Jay had shot his load right after that so… the memory got pretty damn _rosied_ in his mind.

Clean up was a chore and Jason lost his shirt, but he defended the keys when Bruce tried taking it. He had a selfie moment while driving the Lambo half-naked through Gotham. Obviously, he wasn’t pulled up by the cops at all.

Alfred had swatted Jason with an embroidered tea towel for his nudity, but he didn’t let it dim his glow. Tim had muttered, “It’s been more than six months. Honeymoon fever shouldn’t last this long.” Jason gave him the finger and Tim squirreled away to get dressed up for patrol- which was when the afterglow started to break, because Bruce dressed up for patrol when they could get to round two before nightfall. The bag was waiting on the end of the bed, waiting for Jason to take the suit out for a spin. He swore the _froufrou_ was insulting him.

He flew with Batman that night. The demonbrat was glued to DickBat’s side since the incident last Halloween and it was really weird seeing scumbags actually sigh in relief when they see him instead of Robin. It seemed wrong somehow, that Damian had managed to make the criminal element quake in their boots at the mere idea of Robin.

It gave Bruce the chance to let off some steam, letting the crowd think he was weaker without Robin. Then he gave them a what-for the moment their backs were turned. Almost like- as if he was _playing_.

Batman threw a body at Jason and he wasted no time to punch the lights out of the dude.

“No! All of my plans! _Ruined_!” the villain-of-the-week cried as Batman ties his hands behind his back. It was some hotshot businessman in a three-piece suit, neat and clean-shaven. He tried to alter public records by pretending to be the Riddler. (Tough luck, considering how Eddie was safe and cozy in his cell in Arkham.)

Nothing exploded and few shots were fired. Ivy and her girlfriend were busy sprucing up the botanical garden but they were being relatively nonviolent, so Batman let them be. Dick would just have to deal with them next week.

They ended patrol on St. Martin’s roof, to a gentle dawn bringing in the morning. Batman had turned to him on the third bell toll and smiled. This time, Jason laughed with him.

* * *

Jason hasn’t forgotten about the bag, and neither has Bruce, but by the time he got back to the bedroom, the bag had reproduced itself to an amazing quantity. It was getting crowded on the bottom of the bed.

He turned an incredulous look at Bruce. “What’s all this?”

“Duplicates and extras. We won’t go through these tonight,” Bruce explained as he grabbed some of the bags and shoved them in the wall closet. Jason grabbed one at random and shoved past the onion paper to peer inside. There were strips of leather attached to some cutesy stylized devil wings ( _or bat wings_ , his brain supplied.) There was also a tail connected to small plug-

Bruce coughed. “That’s for later.”

 _Later_. Oh, god.

Jason absconded to the bathroom after pushing the bag to Bruce’s waiting hands. When he peeked into the bedroom sometime after, the bags were gone and Bruce was waiting for him on the armchair.

“May I use the bathroom?” Bruce asked, uncurling from his seat. They’d both showered downstairs but the rest of Bruce’s sleeping clothes were still in the bathroom.

Jason bit his lip and stepped out.

He’d the bag from the boutique in the bathroom.

He wore the heels better this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end this here, but the fic was getting too long. I'll continue this after Nanowrimo.
> 
> Housekeeping things: Sorry for not updating in a while, life got busy. I'm currently re-writing Stranded Side A and Side B. (Humongous fics ugh. OTL) I planned on rewriting Stray as a whole fic in the beginning, so no need to fret for that. I am planning on posting a new version of the eggpreg wingfic as well. (I didn't know that one was popular lol ^^ Thanks for the comments.) I'm not sure if those will get written/posted this year because of NanoWrimo, but if I manage to do it, I'll post a teaser/prologue chapter here with a link to the fic. :D
> 
> Happy Friday, y'all! <3


	21. Day One, Meeting (ABO - No Powers)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30 Day Challenge taken from [here](http://otp-imagines-cult.tumblr.com/post/133309701572/30daychallenge1).
> 
> I love ABO stories. XD

“Wait a moment, young man!”

Jason had been ambling innocently by, or as innocently as someone who fingered a salary man’s fat wallet. He doesn’t look back, just runs as fast as his coltish legs can carry him. It doesn’t take a genius long to realize he’s been made.

The fingers that clamps on the back of his neck are thick.

Jason stills.

“Son, you picked up my friend’s wallet. I’m sure you’d love to give it back.”

Jason turns his head a fraction of an inch, enough to look at his captor. The man holding him is freaking huge, built like those bouncers at the clubs his ma used to visit. He’s smiling at Jason, light blue eyes set on a somewhat lined and pale face, with hair so black it must’ve com from a bottle.

He’s also the mook with the snazzy blue suit and a red tie. Jason remembers because he talked the kind of posh talk Jason swore only existed in TV and he looked like a million dollars. He would’ve been Jason’s target but he had a woman companion with the eyes of a hawk. So Jason went for the guy next to him, some frail man with graying hair and waering a good suit.

“I-I don’t--”

“It’s alright, son. I’m sure you planned to drop it off by the police station,” the man cuts in. He drags Jason, not really a yank but a gentle pull, towards the hot dog stand.

The man with graying hair had opened his wallet to pay for food. Jason struck after he put his wallet back in his pants pocket, making easy work taking the thing.

The graying man is still there, looking disapproving. So’s the lady companion.

“You caught the thief?” she asks.

“Not a thief, Vicki. Just a good Samaritan passing by,” the mook says. Jason purses his lips at him. “Here’s the man, son. Go on. You want to return the wallet personally, don’t you?”

The man lets go. Jason can book it now: kick the dude’s shin or knee his balls, then run. They’ll never catch up once he gets to the next block. But the man is ever smiling. His pale blue eyes feel compelling.

Jason frowns. Then he reaches his hand into his pocket and pulls out his prize. The graying man yanks it from his grasp. _There goes my lunch money for the week_ , he thought.

But then, the graying man grabs Jason’s wrist. There’s a rotten stench of angry alpha coming from him. “Thank you, Mister. I’ll take it from here.”

Jason snarls and tries to wrestle himself free. “Let me go!” The graying man’s grip is surprisingly strong.

“Mister Wayne. Bruce Wayne, actually. I mean to escort the young man myself.”

The mook doesn’t even raise his voice, and yet, Jason feels the power behind his command. The graying man’s grip slackens, his face falling into some trance, not in fear but in awe.

“Mr. Bruce Wayne! You’re just the man I was looking for!” the graying man says, shaking Bruce’s hand with both of his own.

“Yes- Uh, I’m sorry, I don’t quite recall...”

“It’s Alphonse Brook. I used to work for Dagget Industries.”

“Oh, yes! I remember! You made that liquid that changes color on a whim!”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that but-”

“I’d love to pick your brain for one of my side projects,” Bruce cuts in. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a calling card. He borrows a pen from Vicki and writes something down at the back. “Call this number and ask for Janice. She’ll patch you through, so long as you’re still in the market? I’d hate for LexCorp Labs to snatch you right up.”

All this time, Jason’s standing there like a dumb dog caught by animal control. He knows he should go. He knows he should run, while they’re distracted. He knows he needs to get out of there.

Too late. The graying man looks askance at him, his disgusting scent flaring up. “I should do something about this boy.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure he meant well,” Bruce insists. “It’ll be better if I stay with him a bit.”

The graying man falters and his scent gets muddled. “If you’re sure...”

“I’m sure. Please give Janice a call, preferably today,” Bruce says. “See you soon!”

“See you!” The graying man replies before he’s thought about it. He looks confusedly at the ground before waving and disappearing into the crowd.

Jason snaps out of it. He starts, “I should go--”

“Nonsense. You should join us for a walk.” Bruce says.

Jason blinks at him. He’s not compelling or anything, not like earlier. His scent didn't even flare up, unlike other alphas Jason knows. He squints his eyes up at Bruce and puts his fists on his waist. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, mister--”

 _But I’m leaving_ is what he should've said.

“But you lost me my dinner. How are you gonna compansate that?” is what he says instead.

Bruce blinks at him slowly. Then he bends his head backwards and laughs.

Jason startles but doesn't back down. Vicki is frowning at Jason and clutches her bag close to her body. She’s reacting just fine.

Maybe… maybe this guy’s actually dangerous?

Then Jason smells it, past the beta perfume the adults wear around polite company. There’s something rich and thick from Bruce, so light on the air around them that Jason thought it was a memory. He takes a step forward, letting his nose and instinct lead him.

Bruce gets himself back together somehow. He’s still laughing under his breath. Then he lays a hand on Jason's shoulder. “I think I'll keep you.”


	22. Drunken Rant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Listen, I’m not gonna lie to you and pretend I don’t think Batman’s hot…” is how Jason Todd has started many drunken rants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Cross-posted Tumblr](https://vodka112.tumblr.com/post/174515270908/le-fou-sur-la-lune-listen-im-not-gonna-lie-to#notes). Thanks le-fou-sur-la-lune! 
> 
> Maybe set in Pendulum; Jason is Red X. Teen Titans Comics and Animation.

The remark was followed by an impressive belch delivered right to Kori’s face. Not to be outdone, Kori finishes her keg of Tamaran Rum and belches back at Red X, sending the young man sliding off his chair and to the ground on his back.

“Woohoo! Korreeeeeh!” he cheers, swinging his arm and spraying those next to him with his drink. Gar gets his fur wet and Joey earns a cold patch on the side of his shirt before Roy steadies Red X’s hand. 

“Man, you’re drunk already?!” Gar complains.

“Listen. Lis–Listen! It’s not just that he knows how to work the leather, y’know? He–, like,  _wooshes_ and _bam!_ all the gangs scatter like mice, lemme tell ya. And- and that thing he does with his eyes when he’s angry and his mouth gets all snarly–”

“Red X, I think you’ve had enough–” Wally tries to cut in. He’s the reason the drinking party got started, what with his impending fatherhood (to twins!) and Mia’s failed kidnapping. The older Titans decided he needed a good send off before entering the sleepless life of nappy changes and midnight feedings. 

Also, they’ll take any excuse to drink Kori’s special Rum.

“Fur-Furthermore! He does this growly thing with his voice like he drank ten shots, and sang a rock concert, and was in an orgy _yesterday_. _-hic-_ How do you not want to tap that?”

Joey makes eye contact with Roy.

“Alright buddy, up we go,” Roy says, taking Red X’s arm while Joey takes the other. Together they help Red X stand.

“And he always, _always_ wins. Doesn’t matter if it’s Two-Face or the Joker or whatever. Just once, I’d love to see him kneel– Hey, lemme go, I’m not _done_!”

Red X wriggles out of their hold seeming to pitch his body down on the hard tower landing strip.

Wally’s face goes pale. He’s there in less than a second, holding Red X’s back. “Dude, you can’t pitch yourself off the roof on my watch.” He turns to Roy. “You couldn’t hold on to him better?”

Roy rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t this bad with Lian, was I?”

Joey grimaces. He holds out his hand, palm down, with his fingers spread, tilting it from side to side.

“–Just once I’d love to stick it to him, up where it–”

The rooftop door opens and Nightwing saunters in. “So this is where you guys are hiding. Starting the party without me?”


	23. Mpreg ABO No Superpowers AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m still working on fixing Side A and attempting to write the continuation of Bunny!Jason. Both are going very slow for my tastes; I hate Elias and sympathize too much with Tommy. Oh well.
> 
> Have this MPREG ABO No Superpowers AU where Jason is an omega lingerie model and Bruce is his alpha CEO sugar daddy. Prompt taken from: [The Billionaire's Pregnant Mistress](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11366793)

 

“Bruce,” Jason calls from where he’s sitting on the bed, just in his underwear with his hair still wet and curling from the shower. “Your inner alpha trying to get me pregnant or something? I swear you kept us tied for an hour last time.”

Bruce grunts in answer, too busy drying his hair with one of the tiny pressed towels Alfred left all over the place. Jason had looked around the suite once when he went foraging for food. Seriously, they wouldn’t have survived his three-day heat without Alfred’s literal food cart stashed next to the door. 

The aging beta didn’t skimp out on the good stuff either. Aside from finger foods (the usual fare for heats and ruts), the cart was stuffed with containers filled with single servings of soup and stew. He even had salad in a cooler. It makes Jason wonder about old age instincts bullshit from the 50′s about making sure to impress the omega so they’ll stay in the pack.

Jason’s been very impressed so far. Two years of fucking Bruce Wayne and here he is, potentially being courted by the family beta into the Wayne pack. 

He’d never gone so high in life.

“You know I’m on BC, right?” Jason continues.

Bruce sits next to him and Jason follows the trail of water on his fairly hairy chest. It’s possible he was just staring at Bruce’s chest as the bathrobe shifts and curves, failing to contain the alpha’s body. Bruce lays the towel on his thigh and Jason loses a bit of time.

“… go away on its own.”

“Huh?” Jason says, dragging his eyes up to Bruce’s face.

Bruce gives him that look, the one where he’s not entirely sure he should be offended. That face morphs into hunger and Jason gulps.

The sweet smell around them would be Jason’s post-heat pheromones and possibly his slick. Jason could drench this bed with his slick if Bruce kept smelling like _that_. 

Fun, _fun_ biology of heat pheromones feeding rut, feeding heat. Keep cycling.

Bruce has his hand in Jason’s hair, massaging his scalp. Jason leans into the touch and into Bruce’s face. The alpha meets him with an open-mouthed kiss. This close and Jason can taste Bruce’s rut pheromones in his kiss. Jason grabs back, his hands grasping Bruce’s arms. There’s so much meat in there he doesn’t know how to hold on. Jason’s panting heavily when they part.

“Again?” Bruce asks, his other hand caressing Jason’s side and almost intent in thumbing the band of his underwear.

Jason breathes a thready “ _Yes_ ” and Bruce pulls him over to his lap.


	24. soulmates&culinary&space opera au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt:](http://plumadesatada.tumblr.com/post/122729890023) 23 soulmates au // 36 culinary au // 15 space opera au
> 
> Jason as Force-sensitive Bimm who can cook, also half-Bimm: Jaisonee Tauledvar
> 
> Bruce as Chagrian who escorts a healer to Bimmisaari: Brusquillaraellis Weiinakutar Mekovaar
> 
> I'm sorry if it's not strictly Star Wars. Google can only do so much. Everyone are OC except Bruce and Jay.

It wasn't a tall order. Their watering hole was easily the best food stop in all of Bimmisaari, if you heard Jaysee's master say it. But the idea of having some Jedi come and visit is making Jaysee's fur stand on its end.

He reaches into his pockets for a roll of pit'o. He lights the end using the stove before settling into a chair in the corner of the kitchen. The burning pit'o exudes a sweet and relaxing smoke, quite like the scent of freshly cut Nipa.

The food has to be right. The settings has to be right. His master has to be right...

Its a tough juggling act.

Jaysee startles when a youngling bursts into the kitchen. He waves the smoke away in haste.

"Haven't you heard? There's a Jedi Knight in the city! He's staying over at Kelmees'ya!"

"I heard you enough. Get out of here, Ja'arl," Jaysee scolds the child.

"I got to touch his robe!" Ja'arl continues, following Jaysee as he makes his way towards the stove. Then, in a move that nearly makes Jaysee drop the spatula, Ja'arl stands next him and rubs his face on his clothes. "You smell like Nipa! I like it."

Jaysee pushes the kid away by his face. "Get out. Quit bothering me."

The kid purrs.

Jaysee reaches into his other pocket and dangles a small drawstring bag of caramelized nuts to Ja'arl. The child grabs it and runs out of the kitchen. Jaysee laughs before he returns to his cooking.

He hadn't wanted to come down for the welcoming ceremony. Heading out into the fields with about a couple hundred other Bimms is too much for Jaysee to handle. He'd have better luck seeing the Knight during dinner anyway.

And perhaps wheedle them into telling one or more of their adventures.

The clams start popping, making clanging sounds through the metal pot. Jaysee hurries lowering the fire and pouring in some lukewarm water. Tokeela clams, when cooked right, are delicate in both taste and texture. It has to be served hot or the meat would grow stiff but leave it on for longer and the shells will pop open. Perfectly served Tokeela clams will pop their shells the moment its dished and served.

Jaysee takes his time checking each shell. He tosses the open ones in the basin by the sink. Those can't be served anymore but he'll try to shred it into spread for breakfast. The meat should go well with bunjoin leaves and getas.

Sometime later, Teebojas drops by. The elderly Bimm owns the restaurant Jaysee works at and has taught him all he knows about cooking. She catches him with a sharp tap on the shoulder.

"You burned my Tokeela," she growls. She just opened the pot and somehow she knew Jaysee took a few out.

"They're fine!" Jaysee retorts, rubbing his hurt flesh. Teebojas has a heavy hand for an old Bimm.

"I better have enough to serve the Jedi, Jeisonee, or I will serve you!" she hisses and then turns around to inspect the little cakes in the cooler.

"I better be on a platter made of gaheer, or I'll haunt you in the after-life," Jaysee mumbles under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Thought so."

Despite her heavy-handed nature, Teebojas is surely a master of her craft. The fact that she hasn't turned him away since he happened upon her shop years ago never goes unnoticed. Jaysee knows that out of all her apprentices, he's the only one she saw fit to inherit her shop.

"Ah, Jeisonee, what will you do if I retire? Will you burn the goleema? We cannot waste the blessing of food," Teebojas comments as she checks the rigidity of the water cakes, transparent jelly with floating pieces of fruit inside.

"That's why we're serving shredded Tokeela for breakfast tomorrow," Jaysee answers. "Besides, there's no way to burn goleema unless you put it on the fire."

"With bunjoin leaves and getas? We better add some geebo puvar," she replies, moving on to inspect the assortment of fruits and grain.

"Keta Teebo," Jaysee starts. Its always better to begin requests by calling her 'master'. "Do you think I can stay in the jeisar during dinner?"

Teebojas looks at him suspiciously.

He rubs his hands together. "Please? Just for the stories," he adds.

Teebojas gives him a long hard look before nodding. "Jeh, jeh. Far be it for me to stop you from listening in."

He runs to her and hugs her tight, lifting her feet off the ground. "Thank you!"

"Are you done?" Teebojas answers in a level voice. She points innocently at the grill. "You're burning the gume."

Jaysee puts her down just as the meat start smoking in the grill.

* * *

"Brus, how are you doing?" Jedi Knight T'Ema asks. Brus grunts in answer. They sigh. "It is only for a few short weeks. We will be back in the citadel before long.

"I have to say." They continue." I did not realize the welcome my religion receives on this planet."

"Healer T'Ema," Brus replies, adding an emphasis on her current identity. "The Bimm have been known to welcome guests in the way of their people. I must admit, the sheer amount of-- touching has dried my skin, but I am not the worse for wear. I hope you are too."

T'Ema smiled at him. "You cannot say you hated the adoration?"

"It is an inconvenience."

"Do not be rude to our hosts. How shall we get by dinner in the presence of twenty other Bimms?"

Brus growls. If he hadn't needed the Knight's help, he would have picked a different partner for the mission. Jedi Knight and Healer T'Ema Lovipur had a highly deserved reputation among the Healers in the galaxy. Considering his mission parameters, their connection with the force is most advantageous to secure.

There had been reports of an unknown illness growing within the Bimm community close to the corrupted shrine the Separatists had used to start their organism duplicating machine. The Force remnants had been intercepted by the Jedi Knights but the shrine had been left to fester. Now the war has brought a seemingly incurable illness to one of the most peaceful people of the Republic.

"Brus, my brother in arms," T'Ema calls. "The Force will guide our way."

"The will of the Force through our actions," Brus answers. They put their hand on his shoulder before slipping into the dining room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to stop at some point. Prompt said 500 words and I went way past that. In my head, Brus would unwittingly insult Jay during dinner. Come night, Jay and Brus team up to uncover the "Illness" taking over Bimmisaari. Brus learns Jay's force sensitive and recruits him. T'Ema is actually Wonder Woman. Maybe. I lost sight of what I wanted to say.


	25. Gen, past meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason meets Len and Mick again. Inspired by nirejseki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cant get enough of nirejseki's married Len and Mick. Sadly the amount of puns in this one is woeful.

There's something wrong with the job. Len can't put his finger on it yet, but he can feel it in his gut.

So far, they've been lucky. Billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne isn't just eccentric; he's an idiot to boot. The security system in his manor is basically nonexistent. All they needed to do was to flick the window lock open and they were in. The safe had been stashed behind a painting (quite unoriginal although the painting's subject itself is compelling) and hadn't been upgraded since the 80's.

Len's cracking the safe right now, stethoscope attached to his ear, listening for clicks and pops. If it goes according to plan, there should be some substantial trinket inside. Maybe something gold he can give to Lisa.

"Len?"

Len turns his around, flashing his light on the intruder, his gun pointed with it. It's a boy. There's a baseball bat held in his slacking grip. Len pushes Mick's gun down and ignores the confused glare he's given.

"If you're here then... Is that Mick?" The boy asks.

"Glad to meet a fan," Len answers, slowly walking away from the safe. Mick doesn't have a light and he all but disappears in the shadows. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

The boy snorts. "You really don't remember me?"

"No. But perhaps you could enlighten me," Len answers. He doesn't need to signal Mick. Once the boy turns his back on either of them, it should be enough for him to lunge and put the boy to sleep.

With Chloroform, not a gun, just to be specific.

"It's Jason Todd."

The name takes Len a few months back: a rainy day in February, lying low in Gotham waiting for the heat in Central to die down.

"Wait," Mick says, coming up behind the boy and into the light, "Crime Alley, Jason Todd?"

The boy flails, swinging the bat a second too slow. Mick stops it easy and throws it to the side.

"Geez, man!" The kid says.

Len can see it now. He put on some weight and his clothes look rich but that's Jason. Cocky but sure-footed. Trusting but not of his own safety.

Len covers his face with a gloved palm. "Bruce Wayne Adopts Crime Alley Kid," he recites. He didn't believe it when he read it from the papers.

"Your real name was your handle? That's fucking stupid," Mick voices Len's exhasperation.

"Your face is stupid," Jason grumbles. "Pops had connections, alright? It--It saved my life. Stupid doesn't come into it."

"Does Wayne know?" Len asks with genuine curiosity and worry.

Jason tilts his head to the side, a subtle shrug.

"You got caught stealing his hubcaps," Len taunts, shaking his head in disappointment.

Jason's eyes take on a steely fierceness. "Hey! I took his tires, fair and square."

"You still got caught," Mick intercedes, wrapping an arm around the kid's shoulder. "You sure you're fine being here with all this," Mick frowns around him, "money?"

The kid cracks a smile.

"Surely you can spare a few for your old friends," Len adds as he leans on the mahogany desk. He grabs a paperweight. "Like this." Then he frowns as he sees it in the light. "Ugly piece of work but I can fence it for a pretty penny."

"Quit it. Honor amongst thieves, right? You can't steal from my house," Jason says.

Len was afraid he'd call that. Oh well.

"Not _can't_. _Shouldnt_. But you're not quite one of the gang anymore, Jason. Unless you think you can con your new _daddy_ long enough to take his cash."

The kid freezes. Len watches his reactions closely.

"You think he took the alley outta me too, huh? You think--"

"You have two choices," Len cuts in, "You can stay here. We take whatever's in that box and go our merry way." He takes a deep breath, allowing for that dramatic pause to fill the silence. "Or, you can come with us. Leave the sugar daddy. Our side is much more fun."

Len looks in the kid's defiant eyes. "You can only choose one, kid. Decide."

Jason snarls. "He's not my _daddy_!"

"You're the second boy he's taken when the first one got too old-" Len starts but Jason lunges at him. Mick has the kid restrained but Len nearly jumped out of his skin. As it was, his eyes get wider instead and he stops leaning on the desk.

"He's not like that! How dare you!?" Jason's flushed, angry red splotches on his face.

"He's--He's--! He's good, alright?! He's just--a little different," Jason explains.

"How so?" Len prods.

"He--He knows what its like to _lose_ ," Jason says cryptically.

"Explain," Len demands.

"He lost his parents too. He just wants to help."

Len snorts.

"It's true," Jason adds. He's changing tactics, from mad to begging. "He coulda sent me to juvie. To the system. But he didn't."

"All out of the goodness of his heart, I suppose?" Len taunts.

"Len, he's not like that. Believe me," Jason says. "I'd know."

Len looks in Jason's eyes and sees an iron conviction in there. He clenches his jaw.

"It's only a matter of time--"

"I'd _know_ , Len. He's not like that."

An eery silence spread between them.

"Fine, suit yourself," Len says. Time to throw away the plan. He tilts his head, a signal for Mick to let go.

"We're leaving?" Mick asks.

"Out of the goodness of our hearts. Honor to an ex-theif," Len says the last to Jason and he makes a small bow with flourish. "But this will be the first and last. You're not one of us anymore, kid. Get that in your head."

Len makes his way to the open window, their entry and exit strategy.

Mick sidles close to him and whispers, "You're getting soft."

"Har, har, let's get outta here."

* * *

"It's been dealt with. We're good," Jason tells the shadow hiding behind the door. He hears the door creak and watches as it swings open, revealing his mentor's austere stature. He was as menacing as a bird of prey perched for the kill. He walked quietly into the room, his stride impossibly light, wide and fast. It took all of Jason's training not to flinch back. 

Batman is wearing Bruce's face as he reached the window and looked down. "Do you know why they're here?"

"Easy money and bragging rights. They're not a threat," Jason answers.

"And you knew them how?"

Jason knew he'd ask that. He stares at Batman, expecting the glare.

"Your's ain't the only car I boosted in the alley."

Batman holds his gaze for a long hot minute. 

"Hmm," he says at last, turning his gaze back to the window, where two bike lights flicker in and out of the woods. "Go back to bed, Jason. You have an early day tomorrow."

Jason blinks at hearing his name. So far, Batman had always called him Robin.

"Sure, boss."

He has his hand on the door when Bruce hails him again.

"Jason?"

"Yeah?" Jason calls back.

"Thank you... for putting your trust in me."

Jason breathes out, quick and a bit sharp.

"Anytime, partner," he replies, finding it easier to use Robin's voice instead of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea of Len and Mick adopting Jason when he stole their hubcaps and into their car. It was a cold rainy winter and when they got back to the car (that they also stole anyway) they found Jason asleep in the back. At this point, Lisa's all grown up, either starting or finished grad school. The nest is empty. Lisa isnt impressed in not being the youngest in the pack anymore. But she gets over it. She's still the only sister anyway. XD
> 
> And when they get back to Gotham, waiting out the heat in Central, again, just passing through, they decide to heist something for fun/practice. i'm not sure what gun Jason would end up having, but he has one and when it comes to pulling, he gets in on that too. And pulls Bruce Wayne. 
> 
> Hehehehe
> 
> One time in his late teens, Len gives him The Talk. Len bet that he would get Jason to talk to him about his preferences, confidence based on how he got Lisa to talk to him about hers. Mick bet that Len would give up halfway through and give the kid an ultimatum. Mick won that bet because Len came out of the room with steel eyes and gave him his prize.
> 
> So when Jason starts eyeing Bruce Wayne in the auction, Len calls his name and gives him a look. Jason rolls his eyes and says, "Yeah, I know the rule." Then he googles Bruce's birthday. His face lights up and he throws a cheeky grin at Len and Mick before making his move on Bruce.


	26. Day Two, Realization (Continuation of Day One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’d taken a heat before Jason noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the last for this ABO version. It was a try at the Billionaire's Pregnant Mistress prompt but it took off on its own. BPM requires Jason meeting Bruce through Dick (lol) which wouldn't happen if Bruce met him waaaaaay earlier than expected.

It’d taken a heat before Jason noticed. He’d been fourteen, his heat coming a year later than normal. Leslie said it’s because he was too small for his age. Selina told him to pay her words no mind.

“So long as you’re healthy. That’s all I want,” she said when she took him out for ice cream, an after-doctor’s tradition Jason intended to keep.

Jason knew what Leslie was saying. He was way below the average weight for his age when Selina adopted him. Before then, he’d been lucky to eat a decent meal once a week.

There was a reason he hung out with Mr. Wayne that day he almost stole the guy’s wallet. The alpha had treated him to all the chillidogs he could ever want. Afterwards, they walked around with his lady friend, Vicki. Then Jason got put into the Orphanage.

It turned out, Mr. Wayne was actually _the_ Mr. Wayne, the dude in all the newspapers and magazines Jason used to burn in a can that winter, and he owned the best orphanage in Gotham. Jason had heard nothing but good stories about the place so obviously he broke out the very same night.

Nothing was ever that good in his experience.

Out of gratitude, he’d decided to steer clear of Mr. Wayne’s places. Regrettably, that brings him closer to the edge of Alley territory and into the Bowery.

Alley kids and Bowery kids didn’t mix.

One night, Jason came very close to having a knife stuck in his guts for saving a cat. It was raining really hard and the poor thing was drenched. Also, she wore some fancy collar that glittered in the light. Some Bowery kids wanted to skin the cat even after taking the collar. Lucky for her, they didn’t notice Jason and he’d used that to his advantage. After some distraction, a minor scuffle and a lot of running, he’d come back to Crime Alley with the cat.

A few days later, the cat’s mug showed up in posters all over the place. _If found, please return to Selina Kyle_ , it said. Jason reluctantly parted with the can of tuna he’d been saving, gotten a box and lured the kitty in.

Ms. Kyle was famous, still is, around Jason’s area. She’s involved in a lot of community programs, including the food truck that goes around every morning for the kids at school.

He cased out Selina’s apartment, third one on the left from the escape ladder, and she’d just gotten home.

She’s a pretty lady omega with tightly curled hair and dark skin, and she smelled really good, like how Jason’s ma used to underneath all the scent of sick. She’s on the phone again, exactly as Jason expected, talking loudly about missing her cat. She’s left the window open with a small dirty blanket hanging out of it.

Jason planned on climbing close enough to get the box to the window, usher the cat in and then leave without anyone noticing him. Suffice to say, that’s not what happened.

First off, the cat won’t stop meowing the moment he opened the box. He had it tipped right next to the window, but the kitty climbed down Jason's arms instead and started rubbing her body all over his legs.

The commotion caught Ms. Kyle’s attention. Jason was about to book it, when the doorbell rang and she went to answer that.

Jason held the cat up with his hands under her armpits. “I guess this ain’t your home, huh? I got’chu, don’t worry. We’ll make it work.”

Jason could admit he was a little bit sympathetic to the cat’s situation.

The cat nuzzled his face when he let go. Then she jumped into the window.

“Isis!” Selina gasped. “Oh, Isis! I’ve missed you!”

Jason frowned. Here he was thinking him and kitty had an _understanding_. Selina sounded relieved and happy, gushing affection. The cat seemed happy too, mewing and chittering up a storm, answering all of Selina’s questions. Kitty— _Isis_ did that whenever someone talks to her.

He wanted to see her one last time, so he risked getting on his knees and looking into the window. Then his nose came face to face with someone’s midriff.

He gulped and looked up. “Uhm, hi.”

Jason had no idea how Mr. Wayne came to be in Miss Kyle’s apartment, but he was there, with his back to the light and his face all shadowed as he glared at Jason.

Then he stepped back and gestured with his hand. “You’d better come in. Selina would like to meet you.”

Jason climbed in almost too fast, nearly tripping and falling face-first on the wooden floors. Mr. Wayne lost his jacket, his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his hair was a mess. Jason stared at his wide shoulders and discreetly sniffed, focusing on the man’s alpha scent.

Selina took one look at him, ruffled his hair and made him hers. She basically snapped her fingers and made Jason her son.

“ _My very own kit. It's only appropriate Isis found him_ ,” Selina had said in an interview a few months later when the media found out.

For a while, the tabloids had fun painting him as the bastard son Selina had to give up during her teens. Then the tabloids took an interesting turn, proclaiming Jason as Selina and Mr. Wayne’s Illegitimate Love-Child.

It’s all because Mr. Wayne won’t stop visiting the apartment. Jason wasn’t sure who he was actually visiting sometimes. He seemed happy hanging out with Jason. Selina said he was experiencing the “empty nest” syndrome since his foster son moved out.

Jason was all too happy to help out. He’d gotten in the habit of leaning his shoulder on Bruce while watching TV. (It had taken a few months before Mr. Wayne got Jason to call him Bruce.) He’d casually lean his head closer so Bruce can pet his hair. The action made it easier to take lungfuls of Bruce’s warm alpha scent. It’s a win-win for everybody.

And then he’d gotten his heat.

It started as an annoying itch on Jason's arm. He'd been marathoning Zorro movies when Bruce dropped by. He had his head on Bruce’s shoulder, ready for the petting of life, but his arm wouldn’t stop itching.

Bruce noticed, took a very undignified sniff in Jason's direction, and then proclaimed his prognosis. A phone call after that brought Selina home, and they both moved him back to his room. He remembered resisting; he wanted to finish the movie. Selina opened his laptop for him and set it up. Then she helped him make a nest on his bed, blankets and pillows cocooning his body.

After Jason finished the movie, the itch had moved from his arm to his whole body. Slight tremors coursed through his flesh and he was soaked with sweat. When he stood up, his penis was there too. It seemed important to get himself off or to find someone who _will_ , and the traces of Bruce’s scent had never smelled so good.

He'd wobbled off his bed. His legs felt weaker than usual. Then he picked the lock to his room. It took a few tries, more than Jason liked, but he got out. He’d made a beeline for the couch, where Bruce’s scent was strongest. He'd rolled on it till the scent was gone. He sat up and wriggled his butt.

One deep breath in, another deep breath out. There was a trail of Bruce’s scent that led to the bedroom. Jason wobbled after it. There was a strong scent of alpha and omega in there. Jason growled.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know about Bruce and Selina. But he still felt the insane urge to claim the alpha behind the door.

He’d clawed at the door. He’d begged. The door didn’t budge.

Jason woke up on the couch that morning, covered with throw blankets and pillows. Selina made breakfast and drove him to Leslie’s for an emergency check-up. She’d been so great, talking him through omega related stuff he thought he knew about but didn’t, and some things he didn’t think he could ever ask anyone about. She’d been there for him.

Despite that, every time he caught a whiff of Bruce’s scent on her, he’d growl.

Selina hadn’t laughed him off the first time, disguising the sound with a cough. She’d explained things so well, about instincts and wants and needs without any judgment.

He felt like he was betraying her. Because no matter how he cut it, what he feels for Bruce is not something he feels for anyone else in his life. What he _wants_ from Bruce is nothing he had ever wanted before either.

He was so scared he might never feel the same way about anybody else. That he would _never want_ to. That who he wanted to offer his _submission_ to would always be _Bruce_.

 _Selina’s_ Bruce.

He _was_ betraying her.


End file.
